Child's Room
by BC
Summary: MAJOR EDIT! Shuichi has been wandering the night Tokyo again, because he has nowhere to go. Ryuichi is trying to just get away for a while. After they bump into each other, Kumaguro refuses to leave Shuichi behind. SRxSS, UExSS
1. Chapter One

Child's Room

Disclaimer: Shockingly, I don't own Gravitation in any shape or form, and I don't make any money from posting this story on the internet.

Summary: Shuichi has been wandering the night Tokyo again, because he has nowhere to go. Ryuichi is trying to just get away for a while. After they bump into each other, Kumaguro refuses to leave Shuichi behind. SRxSS, UExSS

Warnings: slash, sexual situations, original character

AN: I wrote this story what seems like a really long time ago. It's not up to the standard I expect of myself nowadays (see _Visionary_, _Logical Fallacy_ or _Nothing like Harker_), and it was really rather bad before I put it through a perfunctory edit. I tried to eliminate awkward formulations and wrong grammar and spelling, so I hope it's actually readable now, but I didn't really mean to change anything about the story line or the awkward direct-speech-like thoughts... I had to, in the end, because the story was really stunningly bad. Still, I maintain that my original character is _not_ a Mary Sue. So there.

Brynn

o

Chapter One

o

"Yukiiii!"

By now the cry was so familiar that it didn't catch any attention, although today it was yet more enthusiastic than any other time. A slight pink-haired individual chased up the stairs of a skyscraper, overflowing with energy that made it seem like he wouldn't notice the difference of not using an elevator. It might have been for the better, too, because letting him in this particular state anywhere near electronics wouldn't have been a good idea.

The reason for his mood was just as simple as the boy himself.

The voice that could easily kill teenage girls repeated at unfathomable speed: "Vacation, vacation, vacation!" Upon reaching the right corridor the localised natural disaster bounced, leapt forward and with a triumphant "_La li ho_!" landed on the floor among the wreckage of the front door of an apartment.

"Yukiiii!"

o

Among his friends Shuichi was famous for his mood swings, but he had not experienced such a severe put-down in months.

It was not the first time Yuki had thrown him out. It had hurt before, of course, it had caused him to do lots of weird things and get laughed at about as often as get pitied. Still, this time was not like before.

Walking across the park – _the_ park – would often make him nostalgic or happy, and sometimes even horny, depending on his current mood, but today… today he felt nothing. Inside him was a huge dark emptiness that seemed to swallow everything he should have been feeling.

He made one valiant attempt at distracting himself, trying to sing: "_Fui ni miageru_ _shiruette, kimi no_… damn it to Hell…" but reconsidered quickly. Sometimes, much as he hated to admit it, even singing got depressive.

Shindou Shuichi would cry once a day, and today his fair share of tears had been shed in a fit of uncontrolled happiness over the fact that he was going to have a week off – a week to spend with Yuki. So he didn't cry now. It would have disturbed anyone who knew him, however, right now nobody who knew him was around.

'I don't understand…' he thought. 'Are you getting a kick out of this, Yuki?'

For once Shuichi knew he had done nothing to deserve such a disproportionate negative reaction (apart from crushing the poor door, but after all the time he and Yuki had been living together, his lover had long since become accustomed to his affinity for destroying things). The one point that made the situation so much worse than it ever was before, the reason why Shuichi was _so_ upset and also the reason why he contemplated what was he going to do with the rest of his vacation was that: 'You promised. You promised you wouldn't throw me out ever again.'

He was not used to Yuki that lied. He was actually sure he could _never_ get used to Yuki that lied.

'The baka probably doesn't even notice,' Shuichi concluded bitterly. 'Doesn't have a clue what it makes me feel like.' He rubbed at his sore eyes, but somehow the tears refused to come even so.

Darkness fell gradually, and he had been so wrapped up in his musings that he had not noticed when. He only realised that, all of sudden, the streetlamp at the juncture of paths was lit and night had obscured the more distant parts of the park.

He half-heartedly stood, and forced himself to walk out of the pure unwillingness to stay on the bench until the morning. He had no idea where was he going. Maybe he would find some all-night karaoke…? It sounded just like what he didn't need: a crowd of drunken, happy and painfully bad singers to listen to.

He resigned and let his legs carry him where they decided.

Unsurprisingly, they took him along the path they knew best and brought him to the studio. The security guys let him in without a word, sparing him only a brief glance before turning back to the TV, and Shuichi coerced himself into ambling upstairs. The illumination was dim, making the NG building lighter than the park but nowhere near as light as the karaoke would have been.

Shuichi snorted. 'At least there are not going to be _bad_ singers here.' He sighed and closed his eyes; his fingers tightened on the stairs' railing to steady himself in case he would get dizzy. The landing was just three steps up, but he didn't seem to be finding the motivation to make those threee steps.

He sighed again and opened his eyes-

-just in time to glimpse a sparkly-eyed face practically head-butting him. He didn't even have a chance to brace himself for the impact. His attacker crashed into him, broke his grip on the railing, and sent them both to the floor in a heap of limbs.

Shuichi groaned and rubbed the back of his head. "A-ta-ta-"

The other person couldn't have been much heavier than Shuichi himself, and they quickly lifted themselves off of him. He spotted something pink and fluffy, and his already overworked and repeatedly shaken and stirred brain sent a signal to his mouth. "Sa-"

The person jerked, startling Shuichi into silence. They very insensitively stuck a fish-shaped toy into his mouth to prevent him from speaking – nearly suffocated him in the process – and dragged him up the three stairs to the landing, round the corner and into the first room on the left. When the door was safely closed behind them, the _fishy_ object was removed from Shuichi's mouth to allow him to speak.

Shuichi pinched himself, concluded that he was really out of it, and despite all logic found himself in the suspected company.

"Sakuma-san…" he said quietly.

Ryuichi gave him a pout that could generally be considered cute, but then he frowned and his face lost all the trademark childishness. Cold blue eyes pierced Shuichi as his long-time idol frowned. "Hai, Shindou-san?"

Shuichi landed on his butt, mouth hanging open with surprise. This was the first time Sakuma-san had called him that, and he felt a painful pang somewhere inside him. He wasn't quite sure what had caused it, but he definitely didn't like being address so casually.

He stared up, eyes filled with hurt that was magnified a few times by his already dismal mood. Yuki didn't care about him enough to remember his promises. Sakuma-san apparently didn't want to be friends anymore. Next thing Hiro would be telling him they will never again play and sing together-

'No way!' he screamed inside his head.

The eyes staring back at him weren't cold anymore. Something else flashed within them, and Shuichi suddenly felt as though he was looking into a mirror. The same build, the same hairstyle, the same _emotion_…

"Gomen ne, Ryu-kun," he said, realising just what he had done wrong. It was almost creepy how Ryuichi always managed to manipulate him – and probably not only him – into doing things right. It only served to make the singer seem more like the supernatural being, as Shuichi imagined him.

The man instantly went into his starry-eyed mode, but he did put a silencing finger on the stuffed bunny's nose in demand for silence, before he pressed his ear to the door. The thumping of military boots could be heard even from Shuichi's position. It approached them. Sakuma tensed a bit, but then it disappeared down the stairs, and he let out a soft sigh.

"That was close. Gomen ne, Shu-chan," Ryuichi said. He didn't bother to explain what he was talking about. He stood up and scrutinised the boy still seated on the floor. His serious expression returned.

Shuichi realised he didn't like Sakuma being serious.

"You all right, Shu-chan?" the man asked. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The corners of Shuichi's lips quirked up a bit, although more with gratefulness than actual happiness. He shook his head.

Sakuma mirrored the sad smile and sighed again. Then he seemingly shrunk and his eyes swelled to an unnatural size, cinching the innocent look. "Kumaguro wants to know what made Shu-chan sad-"

Shuichi closed his eyes, shook his head in denial and rested it on his forearms, rested across his knees. His fucked-up love-life was not something he wanted to discuss with half-moulted pink plush bunny.

Sakuma's pager started beeping like mad. The plushy disappeared from Shuichi's vision and a small black box flew across the room, crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the floor. It merrily went on beeping.

"I've gotta run, Shu-chan," Sakuma said, hurrying toward the exit. "You take good care of yourself-"

Shuichi finally looked up. He was cold, shivering, and the emptiness inside him wasn't huge enough to swallow all the heartache anymore. "Ryu-kun," he muttered.

He didn't want to stay here for the night. Not alone. Not on the carpet in an impersonal uniform conference room, not when the only thing to do here was reminisce and quietly sing all the super-sweet, super-sad ballads he knew. He still didn't feel like singing, but without singing, what was he good for?

Sakuma turned on his heel, hopeful to find out what was ailing the youth.

"Where…" Shuichi spoke. "Where…" But it wasn't appropriate to question Sakuma, and Shuichi, maybe for the first time in his life, shut up before he said something he would regret later.

"Kumaguro wanted to go on holiday," Sakuma non-answered. "So he is running from K. He always takes Ryu-chan with him, too-"

"Could…" for the second time in his life Shuichi shut up before he stuck his foot in his mouth.

Sakuma's eyes narrowed for a split second, and then widened to their overlarge size again. "Kumaguro wants Schu-chan to come with us."

o

They snuck down the emergency staircase. Shuichi followed Sakuma in the darkness, orienting himself more by the sound of quiet footsteps than by sight. He had no idea how far they had descended, so it took him by surprise when the older man opened a one wing of a double-wing door and they stepped into the underground parking lot.

Sakuma meandered between the few parked cars and crossed the vast empty space to the opposite wall. There, hidden from sight and from security cameras by a pillar, stood a motorcycle.

"Shu-chan, are you up to it?" Sakuma whispered to prevent his voice from echoing.

Shuichi nodded.

"We cannot use the car, K would find us within an hour."

"It's alright," Shuichi answered. "I'm used to riding on the back of a motorbike."

He used to do that a lot with Hiro, but that was before Ayaka. Since Ayaka there had been too little room for a childhood friend in Hiro's life – so little, in fact, that the friend had to spend his night at NG to avoid sleeping in parks.

"And I'm used to being depressed…" he added to himself under his breath. Sakuma was already seated and Shuichi hastily climbed behind him, as though afraid that he might be left behind. Funnily enough, he didn't think he actually _would_ be.

o

As soon as they were out of the building, Shuichi heard yelling voices in the underground, followed by shooting, but they were already speeding up the road. It would take just a few seconds for K to start the car and come after them, but Sakuma was experienced with escaping the grasp of his former manager. He was also a skilled rider.

Half a minute later they were separated from the studio by a maze of alleys too narrow for a van to drive through. After that, their distance grew with each second. Another half a minute passed, and they reached the main street.

Sakuma steadied the bike and rounded, surprisingly, onto a road that would take them out of the city.

Shuichi felt incredibly weary, probably due to his emotional state. Nevertheless, he had to maintain a rather tight grip on the man sitting in front of him to be sure he wouldn't fall off. The real-life Sakuma Ryuichi was much smaller than he was made to look on TV, and although Shuichi had already known that, it was just now, with his chest pressed against the man's back, that he realised _how_ small. Truly, no bigger than Shuichi himself.

'Hell, I am touching my idol, my _kami_… actually it's more like I'm draped all over my kami…' Shuchi felt dizzy. His stomach threatened to turn. He remembered that he had not eaten for hours.

Now he wasn't so sure he was up to riding a motorbike, even if it just meant clutching onto the skinny guy in front of him. "Ryu-kun…"

Sakuma slowed down and the roaring of the wind in their ears lowered. "You're fine?"

"Not sure," Shuichi breathed. He gritted his teeth and hardened his already steely grip on the man.

Sakuma drove to the side of the road and stopped. Gentle hands helped Shuichi dismount and guided him to sit down onto the street-curb.

He was breathing shallowly and his heart made a good effort to pound itself out of his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Sakuma was scowling at him.

"Are you mad, Ryu-kun?" Shuichi forced out.

"No, of course I'm not," the man replied solemnly.

It didn't seem like he was _not_ mad, but Shuichi believed that Sakuma wouldn't lie to him, so he was quite confused and, consequently, ashamed of himself for screwing-up again. Not being able to hold on, sitting on a motorbike, just because his lover had thrown him out… so pitiful.

"Here," Sakuma said in a low, cool voice, not revealing a hint of emotion.

Schuichi focused and his jaw dropped.

Sakuma forced a chocolate bar in his hand. "Eat, you'll feel better."

Purple eyes locked with icy-cold blue. Shuichi shivered. "A-arigatou, Ryu-kun."

Shuichi munched on the bar, while Sakuma sat next to him and stared into the darkness disturbed only by the occasional passing car. The chocolate wasn't much, but it was enough to steady Shuichi's stomach and pour a bit of energy into his veins. About five minutes later he felt much readier to set out.

As he mounted the bike, Sakuma turned around and gave him one of those chilling gazes. "Shu-chan, if you are sick again, tell me."

"Ryu-kun…" Shuichi stupidly gaped. Was that concern instead of exasperation in Sakuma's voice?

"Nani?"

"Uhm…" Shuichi did some really quick thinking. The chocolate helped with that endeavour. "Where are we going?"

Sakuma kicked on the engine. "To my family house."

o

The ride took two more hours, but after the crisis Shuichi held himself well enough. He had a lot to think about, and majority of the subjects took his mind off of Yuki. He gradually calmed down and realised that there was nothing he could solve right now. Time would show where he would go from here.

One thing that did trouble him above others was why Sakuma didn't just drive them to his apartment. Of course, it was a logical place for K to check, but still, it was much closer and there wouldn't be any need for awkward explanations… He couldn't figure out anything, so he thought instead about Sakuma's family. As a dedicated fan of Nittle Grasper he knew that Sakuma was an only child – but he might have had cousins. Shuichi had no idea what to expect, how to act around the people he was going to be introduced to.

Also, wasn't it illogical for Sakuma to choose to go home? It would certainly be one of the places K would check…?

A thin stripe of pink light appeared on the horizon in the East. Shuichi was rapidly getting cold. He almost asked Sakuma to stop for a while to stretch and shake out his limbs a bit, to restore any semblance of blood flow, when they turned off the main street and followed an uneven path among trees. About ten minutes later, during which the absence of the cutting wind let Shuichi warm up a bit, they arrived in front of a traditional family house. The sky was already clear.

Shuichi straightened and stared over Ryuichi's shoulder. To someone like him – born and raised in Tokyo – the site seemed strange, but there was no doubt this was the place they were headed to.

The board in front of the house read 'Sakuma'.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

o

"Ryu-kun?" Shuichi mumbled.

There was no response. He had no idea where he was, only that it was warm and that he had been sleeping. He also had not a clue why exactly he had said 'Ryu-kun'.

Then the events of yesterday slowly came back. Yuki had thrown him out. He had escaped Tokyo with Sakuma – that meant he was currently in the Sakuma family house.

'Oh yes. The 'family' house,' he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm.

It had struck him particularly hard when they had arrived. In the beginning the darkness in the house hadn't seemed suspicious to him. Why would it have? At that hour all the inhabitants would have been asleep. The silence had been more disquieting – not really like the silence of people deep in slumber.

When they had entered, the still, musty air had creeped Shuichi out.

Then Sakuma had lit up and it had suddenly made sense. There was dust everywhere and they had left footsteps crossing the halls. The floor quietly creaked under their weight. The house was empty – not literally, just empty of people. There were old flowers in the vase on the table, as though all the inhabitants decided to leave all of sudden.

Ryuichi hadn't seemed surprised in the least and Shuichi had the bad feeling that it had been like this for some time. It also explained why K wouldn't look for his charge here – it was quite likely the manager didn't even know this place existed.

"Ryu-kun?" Shuichi repeated, this time louder. He received no answer.

He sat up, slowly, afraid that his head would spin. It was dark outside again – he must have slept through the whole day. In fact, he must have fallen asleep over breakfast.

Sakuma must have carried him in here.

Shuichi took a minute to examine his surroundings. He couldn't believe it! He was actually in Sakuma's _own_ bedroom – at least it _had been_ his bedroom when he had been a child. It was a sanctuary, a temple – a temple dedicated to a rock band called 'Soul Rescuer'. Apparently. The walls were covered with posters of many different artists, but one entire side belonged solely to the duo. They were not the kind of band like Nittle Grasper or Bad Luck – most certainly they had not been as popular (otherwise Shuichi would have heard of them), but the obsession of the child who had gathered so many pictures rivalled the little Shindou Shuichi's obsession with Sakuma Ryuichi.

Wide-eyed, open-mouthed, Shuichi walked the perimeter of the room step by step, looking at the faces. The posters were ordered chronologically – obviously Ryuichi had started on the side opposite to the door and gradually covered the walls with the artists he had liked. There was even a poster of Nittle Grasper and since it, American interprets prevailed.

And there, among them, was Shuichi's own portrait.

o

"Ryu-kun…?" the pink-haired boy said timidly, approaching his host.

The CD-player was on, but the volume was low. Shuichi didn't recognise the sound. On a hunch, he guessed it was Soul Rescuer.

Sakuma sat in a plushy seat that, by the look of it, was a few years newer than the rest of the furniture. His face appeared devoid of emotion, but his lips were moving, soundlessly forming the words of the song.

Hearing Shuichi's quiet query, Sakuma opened his eyes. They were the coldest, darkest blue of steel. He blinked and the chilliness was gone, replaced by overlarge pools of water, or perhaps smudged patches of the sky.

"I… I'm sorry, Ryuichi…" Shuichi stammered.

Those blue eyes went impossibly larger, but Sakuma's surprised expression was promptly hidden from view by a pink bunny plushy. "Why is Shu-chan saying such things? Kumaguro doesn't understand!"

Shuichi rubbed his eyes, trying to fight the sleepiness and searching for words at the same time. It was all so confusing, so _impossible_, but at the same time it was all real. Sakuma Ryuichi – his _kami_ – his _idol_ – his _friend_ – his _fan_. How?

"Kumagro doesn't like it when Shu-chan says weird things!" Sakuma's voice implored from behind the toy.

It had worked so many times in the past. Shuichi could tell it truly surprised Sakuma that this time he didn't fold to the demand, as if it was against the divine order to not ask 'how high?' when Kumaguro wished him to jump.

Once the bunny had protected these two colleagues-and-rivals from each other's emotions, but now it was standing between them. Shuichi wanted to talk to _Ryuichi_. To the _real_ Ryuichi. Not to Kumaguro, because the toy wasn't what everyone believed it to be. It wasn't Sakuma Ryuichi's voice of sanity.

It was his protection from the evil of the show-business.

Shuichi gently pushed the toy away and revealed the professionally teary eyes behind them. He could tell that Sakuma was in fact rather perplexed, certainly not overly depressed by what Shuichi had or hadn't said.

"I'm sorry I made you cry," Shuichi offered.

Kumaguro actually fell out of Ryuichi's hand. He did not bother to retrieve it, staring at the pink-haired boy in front of him.

Shuichi's gaze turned to the floor. He hated himself. Truly, he did. He had never ever refused any of his fans, he had given out millions of CDs, thousands of signed pictures, all sorts of fan-service and merchandise and what fell like pieces of his very soul sometimes… He had _only_ refused one of the most important people in his life a simple autograph.

"Shu-chan is really scary!" Ryuichi exclaimed. "Kumaguro-"

"Ryu!" Shuichi cut him off. "Don't play this game with _me_, please! I won't – I won't try to use anything you say against you or do anything… I – I mean it. I want to be your friend, but how _can_ I if you keep me at a distance?" Now Shuichi's eyes welled, too, with frustration and shame, and he finally gathered enough courage to look up.

Kumaguro remained momentarily forgotten, and Ryuichi was piercing Shuichi with that calculating gaze that had made him shiver before. But this time Shuichi was just a bit wiser – he knew that the other man wasn't _scowling_ at him. He briefly wondered how many people actually got to see the real Ryuichi, and how many of those recognised him.

Shuichi himself had not realised until some time on the road, when he had contemplated his idol, all the things he knew about him and the odd reaction he had received with the chocolate bar. It came to him gradually, as a sequence of individual awakenings, each leading to the next one: Ryu _could_ care – Ryu _could_ worry – Ryu was a _friend_ – there was a _Ryu_ behind Kumaguro – Ryu _did_ care – Ryu _did_ worry.

"It's been some time, Shu-chan," Ryuichi replied wryly. "I don't know if I'm still up to being a friend."

But he wanted to, and that was all Shuichi really cared about. He had taken _Yuki_ as a lover, and the dumbass man had most certainly _not_ been up to it. It was Shuichi's obstinacy that made him not care about the wisdom of his actions, or maybe he just let his heart speak louder than his sense.

Shuichi frowned back at the stubborn man. "Of the two of us the dork is me! You – you once taught me that friendship is not a matter of _deserving_… Do you still want the autograph?"

It was a silly thing to ask, but Ryuichi's face lit up and he eagerly nodded. He let Shuichi lift him up, and motioned for him to follow back to the room where they had slept.

Neither of them minded at all that they both went starry-eyed when Ryuichi passed the marker to Shuichi and pointed to the pink-haired picture on the wall. For that magical while, neither of them missed the pink bunny they had left forgotten on the floor.

o

"Ryuuu…?" Shuichi asked, half-asleep, lounging on the futon and sorting through Ryuichi's old possessions related to the mysterious Soul Rescuer duo. He wanted to know who had inspired the man who had inspired him, but most importantly he wanted to know what inspired his friend, what he liked, what made him the man he was. "Ryuuu-chan, you said…" he paused for a while, trying to find the right words to express what was on his mind, "you said it's been a long time… do you really not have any friends?"

Ryuichi, who had just returned from the kitchen, slumped down on the futon next to the sprawled boy and wordlessly handed over a bottle of juice. He kept a different bottle for himself.

Shuichi lazily glanced over and pouted. He actually fought against his body's wish to not move, made his hand push him up and stole the second bottle out of Ryuichi's grasp.

"Ryuuu-chan's not getting drunk today," he imitated teasingly. "What would…" Shuichi paused again, omitting the word 'Kumaguro', scared that it might come between them, and instead finished with: "…your friends say?"

Ryuichi sighed and didn't even bother to try and retrieve his liquor. "Look, Shu-chan… you're still sort of new to the business, right? You started as a smashing hit. It was all easy and pre-set for you. And you always had Hiroshi, didn't you?"

"Hai," Shuichi replied, not sure where this explanation would go, but he instinctively felt that he wouldn't like it. It would probably make him cry. "Hiro's a good friend. He just doesn't have much time nowadays, what with Ayaka-chan and stuff…"

Ryuichi reached over and turned the CD-player on again, picking a ballad that seemed strangely familiar. The keyboard in the background sounded more like a traditional piano, and a woman's voice was singing. The melody was haunting.

"I quickly learned not to trust anyone," Ryuichi continued. "Tohma seemed a lot like me at first – I actually thought we were going to be the best of friends."

Shuichi sat up and glanced at the face of the lying man. "What happened?"

Ryuichi shrugged. "Tohma is a back-stabbing bitch." The cold in his eyes was still new, still alien, and it sent shivers down Shuichi's spine, but at the same time it revealed a completely new person, someone that intrigued Shuichi. "He only cares about money and Yuki. And you've got both. He hates you, Shu. Sometimes I was worried he would get rid of you; fortunately you sell too well."

The boy shuddered. This was not… could not be… this was the real show-business…? Was even Kumaguro really good enough to protect Ryuichi?

Paradoxically he worried more about his friend than about himself. He had no idea where they would go from here. When the week was over, Shuichi would be back to Tokyo, back to the studio, going to meet with his band-mates and with Seguchi Tohma once more before setting out on a string of concerts, but would he go back to Yuki?

His life was a mess.

"You're too…" Ryuichi frowned, looking for a word, "too shiny. Don't let them kill you, Shu-chan. It's been a long time since I let myself believe in someone."

It were times like this when Sakuma Ryuichi truly came out. Spread on the futon, dressed in old, ripped, dirty jeans and a bleached t-shirt, he wasn't the famous singing sex-god, the mysterious stranger who stood in front of cameras. His eyes, narrow and ocean-blue, concealed lot of sadness, pain, experience and disillusion that didn't belong to a hyper child attached to a pink bunny.

'He's being _just_ Ryu,' Shuichi realised.

Strangely, it seemed that Shuichi liked him best like this, despite the queerness of the situation and despite the jitters he felt when he met those unprecedentedly expressive eyes. He realised the ocean wasn't peaceful at all. It was storming inside Ryuichi's head.

Ryuichi let his head fall to the side, peering at his companion from under lowered eyelids. "I'm so tired, Shu-chan. Exhausted. Now I remember why Nittle Grasper disbanded. Since we've been back together, it's been the same as before."

Shuichi hesitatingly reached over for the liquor. "I'm sorry, Ryu-chan. I had no idea. I was happy when you started singing together again."

Ryuichi laughed mirthlessly. "It's strange, but me too. It was me who wanted the band to reform. I wanted to sing with Noriko and Tohma again! At that time I didn't think about what made us split before, I was _intoxicated_. The atmosphere on stage, when we sang together… I wished I could re-live it."

The boy gave the bottle back to its rightful owner, but Ryuichi put it away into the corner between the wall and the box with old vinyls.

"You're right, Shu-chan," he said. "I'll pass on poisoning myself this time. After all, there is a better company here than there usually is."

The pink-haired youth quietly sat on the futon, Indian style, contemplating the unbelievable amount of info he had found out during that short conversation. Ryuichi – the _real_ Ryuichi – wasn't a talkative person, but he had obviously yearned to say all those things for some time. Shuichi had a strong suspicion that it was because the only one listening to the guy's problems had been a bunny plushy.

"Ne, Ryu-chan," he spoke up, "let's sing together again. Sometimes. If Nittle Grasper disbands again, you could always sing with Bad Luck, right?"

Sakuma laughed again and his eyes warmed up a bit. "No, Shu-chan, it's not so easy. But I'm glad you're here. I'm happy."

For a while they stayed silent, musing and listening to the song from the stereo. Ryuichi's lips began to move again, and Shuichi's eyes strayed from the speakers to his friend. His eyes widened.

Finally, he recognised the melody: it was number ten on Nittle Grasper's first CD. He felt like joining in, but found that he couldn't. His voice was gone; he just stared and listened.

Ryuichi was a genius, no doubt, but people heard him only when he performed. This man in front of Shuichi wasn't a pro or a famous rock star. He was just a guy in battered old clothes quietly singing to himself, just because he wanted to. There was no audience, no fee, no spotlight.

And then, abruptly, the song was over.

"Shu-chan…" said that voice. The very same one he had heard from CDs. The one that had been singing seconds ago.

"Hai?" Shuichi yelped, snapping out of his thoughts.

This Ryuichi was not a kami, he reminded himself sternly. He _was not_. He was a friend, one that needed friends more than anything in the world.

"Coul you pass me the juice?"

Shuichi did so.

Ryuichi took a gulp from it and hummed. "Yeah. Grasper did a cover version of his one. It was a shame though. Not nearly as good as the original." He shrugged. "But people didn't know the original."

"Did the Soul Rescuer like it?" Shuichi inquired.

Ryuichi hung his head. "They died in a car crash two weeks after their last record came out. I never met them. But I doubt they would have been happy about it. Or maybe… I don't know. When I heard you singing my songs I got jealous. Maybe they are jealous of me singing their songs…"

The empty juice-bottle quietly clanked against the floor. Ryuichi's glance strayed to the liquor, but he shook his head in an internal argument.

"But they can't sing themselves anymore," Shuichi objected. "I guess they've got to be glad that the song is not forgotten! Ne, let's sing it together now!"


	3. Chapter Three

AN: _Rewrite_ belongs to _Asian Kung-fu Generation_ (or somebody else, who is definitely not me).

o

Chapter Three

o

"Don't hurt yourself. The nearest doctor is half an hour down the road, and I don't believe there is a med-kit in this shack." Ryuichi was speaking calmly, but the slight crease on his forehead revealed that he actually wasn't alright with what Shuichi was doing.

Shuichi, on the other hand, felt quite aloft, balancing on top of the roof of the garden house. He wasn't all that sure that the wood could hold his weight, old and rotten as it was, but without danger, there would be no fun.

Ryuichi didn't exactly try to talk him out of it; however, Shuichi couldn't help but compare the concern with the hypothetical amount of interest Yuki would have expressed in a similar situation. Somewhere deep inside he was pretty sure that Yuki felt a lot of things, but he fought his emotions. Shuichi knew there was affection, but how was he supposed to make out if there was love? His lover just seemed so cold almost all the time. Shuichi had been struggling against that attitude for what seemed like half of his life, and it was wearing him out. He just didn't feel strong enough to put up with being thrown out every now and then on top of everything.

It wasn't exactly safe wandering through Tokyo at night, and he knew entirely too well what could happen to him. That, and the uncertainty of what he would come home to at any given day, were more than he could deal with.

Shuichi closed his eyes. The breeze was caressing his face and ruffling the tree leaves over his head. When he wasn't looking at his feet it seemed as though he was floating, suspended in the midair, free… 'Then why am I thinking of Yuki now?'

Tears welled in his eyes, but he blinked them away. This was not the time to get depressed over his life back in Tokyo. He was on a vacation, on a _true_ vacation, with Sakuma Ryuichi, and everything in the city had ceased to exist as far as he was concerned.

Then why was he thinking about it?

He lost balance, swayed dangerously to the side, but luckily managed to catch himself on the lowest branch of the tree above him before he fell.

"Alright, that's enough!" Ryuichi said quietly, but with resolve that didn't allow objections.

Shuichi nodded, sat down onto the roof and slid down its side. He landed on the wet grass, where he remained, silently staring at the sky. It was grey, waiting for the clouds to clear out after the recent storm. It tried really hard to reflect his mood, too. The Sakuma family house was gloomy, the life Shuichi had left behind for a few days was gloomy, and he found himself going over the things which he was looking forward to in his mind. The list was short.

"_Baka_," Ryuichi sighed, so close to Shuichi's ear that it made his flinch, since he hadn't noticed the man approaching. "You could have broken your neck."

"Yeah," Shuichi agreed, "that would serve me right… I suppose."

Ryuichi's crease of concern deepened into actual scowl. "Who told you that? Was it-"

"Yuki, yes." Shuichi wondered if Ryuichi knew how frightening he looked with his eyes narrowed to slits. "I reckon there's something about me that makes people try and get rid of me."

The birds started singing, somewhere in the tree-top. There must have been a nest there. Shuichi shook his head in dismay and, before his companion could say anything, he climbed to his feet and set out towards the back of the garden. It was, like everything in the house, unkempt, but the variety of flowers and bushes showed clearly how beautiful it once had been. So very different from the place where Shuichi was raised.

"Shu-chan! Wait!"

He walked on.

"Shu-chan-"

A hand on his shoulder finally forced Shuichi to halt. He stared at the ground, waiting in silence.

"Shu-chan, you can't keep escaping it. It will run you down if you don't face it."

"I don't want to talk about him," Shuichi stated, trying to sound as authoritative as Ryuichi did, and miserably failing.

Ryuichi withdrew his hand, but refused to let Shuichi escape him. He squeezed himself in between the boy and the overgrown bush, and gently lifted Shuichi's chin.

Shuichi gulped.

"You're worried about him," Ryuichi observed.

"Worried?" Shuichi exclaimed. "No! Of course not! Just… maybe… maybe… I don't know…" he admitted. Why should he be worried about Yuki? That would have been a nasty way of spoiling his vacation.

"You are," Ryuichi assured him.

"Ryu…" Shuichi's eyes welled, and two tears trickled down his cheeks. He sobbed, covered his face with his hands, and only half-noticed when Ryuichi pulled him in his arms and held him while he cried.

"Why? It doesn't make sense! Why should I care when he doesn't? He probably doesn't even wonder where I've gone! Why… why does he do this to me?"

o

The door quietly slid aside. Shuichi glanced up from his position on the futon.

"_Gomen ne_," Ryuichi said. "I didn't mean to wake you-"

"It's alright," Shuichi replied. "I was already awake." Awake and staring at the ceiling, as a matter of fact. For hours.

But Ryuichi didn't need to know that.

"I just wanted to check up on you. I'm going out-"

"Where?" the boy asked, suddenly scared by the prospect of remaining alone in this sinister house. He didn't want to. Even the stereo didn't manage to drive away the strange emptiness; how was he supposed to stay there? How could Ryuichi stand it?

"To town. I'll be back in an hour or so." Ryuichi crossed the room to the closet and pulled out a jacket that looked like he had inherited it from a hippie uncle. It did go well with the torn jeans. "Do you want something from the store?"

Shuichi shook his head. He was swinging between extreme moods and couldn't quite control himself. That was basically the reason why he had closed himself in the bedroom and tried to sleep through another day. Right now he just wanted to die.

Ryuichi squatted next to the futon and pressed his palm to the pink-haired boy's forehead. "You don't seem sick to me… Listen, Shu-chan, I know you are an adult and you can take care of yourself, but-"

Shuichi shook his head again. "Don't worry. I won't do anything stupid. I've been depressed before, so I know how to deal with it. You _can_ leave me alone for a few hours."

Ryuichi nodded, stood up, put on the jacket and walked out of the room. Shuichi closed his eyes and shivered. He didn't want to admit it even to himself, but he was scared. What if he would be forgotten and left to die in this old, dead house?

'Ryu-chan wouldn't forget about me,' he tried to convince himself.

Just as he mentally slapped himself for such stupidity, Ryuichi walked back into the room and crouched on the same spot as before. He pulled something out of his backpack and pushed it into Shuichi's face.

"Wha-"

"I wouldn't leave Shu-chan alone. Kumaguro will stay with you."

The boy's eyes widened. He pulled the toy off his face stared its owner, then at the toy, and forth again. Ryuichi was not making fun of him, nor was he acting infantile. He was being serious.

"Thanks," Shuichi said, despite his confusion.

"Bye," Ryuichi waved, inches from Shuichi's face, and then stood up. "Take care of yourself."

o

"Ne, Ryu-chan is gone. I wonder what should we do in the meantime…? Ne, what does he usually do when he comes here?" Shuichi questioned the pink bunny enthroned on top of the drawers.

It returned his gaze with stoic calm, and stubbornly refused to respond.

"Hey, no fair! You're supposed to keep me company, you know. You talk to Ryu-chan, why not to me?"

Shuichi's sanity was shaking its metaphorical head over him as he knelt on the floor with his elbows propped against the drawer-case and his chin rested on his hands, trying to convince a stuffed toy to speak to him. But it was fun! He had a good idea about what made Ryuichi keep Kumaguro close at all times. Despite being unnaturally quiet and a bit unresponsive, Kumaguro was good company.

"You're right. I should ask _him_," Shuichi said. "It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs. Please don't tell him I said that? I know what Ryu-chan _doesn't_ do when he comes here. He doesn't clean. Ne, Kumaguro-san, let's clean a bit!"

Shuichi jumped to his feet with a grin. He moved the bunny to the windowsill, positioning it so that it could 'watch,' and went to rake through the closets to find some useful utilities. There wasn't much useful stuff left here, but he found enough to occupy him for hours. Probably enough to clean all the rooms they were using, which was the _genkan_, the hall, the kitchen and the child's room.

He cracked his fingers, threw Kumaguro a lopsided grin, and set to work, singing the first thing he thought of: "_I want to spit out the jarred thoughts because there's no other proof of my existence…_

_The future I should have grabbed hold of is conflicted between dignity and freedom, and I want to erase the distorted afterimage, because I'll see my limit over there, in the window where I am much too shy…_"

He fell silent for a few seconds and glanced out of the window. The sky was turning red.

"See, Kuma-san? I just can't get it all out of my head."

o

"Shu-chan?"

The door creaked a little. Ryuichi took a step inside and was hit by an overwhelming stink of chemicals. He quietly dropped the bags onto the matt and shut the entrance behind himself.

The house was dark and quiet, just like it had been the morning they had arrived. More than slightly worried, Ryuichi walked out of the _genkan_ into the living room. There was no trace of his guest except for the offensive smell; he had a bad feeling that the entire house was filled with it. Fortunately, Shuichi was bright enough to leave all the doors and windows open, so it was going to air out in a few hours.

However, Ryuichi became increasingly ill at ease when he failed to find his temporary house-mate even in the bedroom. The kitchen was just as empty.

"Shu-chan?"

No answer.

'He wouldn't have gone out, would he? No, of course not.' Ryuichi was fairly certain of that. He liked to think that he knew Shuichi well enough. He just hoped the kid hadn't injured himself falling off a roof or a tree, or into a pit, or just simply doing something normal people managed with one hand tied behind their backs. An old house wasn't exactly a safe place to leave a hyper ditz in a depression alone.

Ryuichi wished he had thought of that sooner.

"Shu-chan?" he called out. There was still no response.

Ryuichi bit his lower lip, turned on the nearest lamp, and nervously walked out onto the _engawa_. There was a chance that Shuichi had gone too far to the back of the yard and couldn't hear him, but that didn't explain why he hadn't taken any light with him.

Crazy kid. Ryuichi really hoped he was alright.

o

"You know, I… I'm not sure anymore," Shuichi tried to explain. "I mean, there was a time when I couldn't stop thinking about him, and then there was a time when I thought I couldn't live without him, but… Sorry. Look, I know I'm not the most independent person, but I _am_ strong enough to live without that atrocious man with bad attitude. I can. It's not going to be easy but my friends will help me!"

Shuichi looked down at his hands. He did have friends. They would help him. Surely they would, right? He would always have a place to go to, right?

"Well," he admitted, "maybe not Hiro, but Ryu-chan will. I know it. Because he…" Shuichi looked around, but there was nothing lurking in the darkness. Nevertheless, he took the two steps forward, wading through the pond water to the toy sitting on the largest boulder, leant in and whispered: "I know he cares about me. And I care about him a great big lot, too."

He sat down next to the small, slightly darker shadow and sighed.

"Hell, I love him, Kuma-san. Always had… ever since I heard him on Grasper's first CD. He was my kami for all those years." Shuichi shivered. He realised his teeth were chattering, but his attention quickly returned to his monologue. "But he's not a kami. I know it now. I…" he turned to stare at the bunny. "What should I do, Kuma-san? Should I go back to Yuki and apologise? Who knows, maybe he _is_ worried about me… a bit… Ne, Kuma-san, can I tell you another secret?"

o

The bushes had already forgotten what scissors looked like, so the route along the path was quite risky in the dark, but Ryuichi had not even considered the hardship. If Shuichi was out there somewhere, hurt, maybe unconscious (the scene of Shu-chan falling off the garden house roof replayed itself in his mind) he had to find him as soon as possible. What were a few cuts and bruises compared to what could have happened to the boy?

"Ne, Kuma-san," said a voice somewhere to his right.

Ryuichi felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders. Shuichi was alright. Or, at least, he was not too badly hurt.

"Can I tell you another secret?"

Ryuichi stopped. He knew he should go on, or speak up. What he definitely shouldn't do was eavesdrop on Shuichi talking about his secrets.

"I wish-"

Ryuichi stepped out into the clearing. Shadows shrouded everything, but he could see Shuichi quite clearly, because the shimmery, sparkly surface of the lake reflected the starry sky and the boy's darker silhouette stood out against it.

The dork was standing with water up to his thighs and, apparently, speaking to Kumaguro, whom he must have placed on one of the boulders. He didn't notice Ryuichi's presence.

"-a kami would come and show me the way."


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

o

Ryuichi stood on the shore of the pond and stared. It took him a few seconds to realise that the pink-haired tragedy hadn't noticed him yet. He scowled. "Shindou Shuichi, get out of the water now!"

It was cold outside. The highest temperature during the day wasn't warm enough for bathing, not to mention that the garden pond was always somewhat colder than the rest of the world. Also, it was late night. Ryuichi was still slightly numb after the ride, since there was a sharp wind blowing outside, and the leeward did little to protect from the biting chill.

Shuichi must have been out of his mind.

'Well, that's quite accurate, isn't it?' Ryuichi realised with bitter resignation.

"Ryu-chan!" Shuichi yelled, startled. There was a splash and then a thoroughly wet head rose out of the water.

Ryuichi inwardly groaned. The boy was hopeless. But at the same time he was incredibly… endearing? No, honestly. He was just a sad case.

"Get out here this instant!" Ryuichi repeated in a tone that didn't leave room for objections.

The soaked figure scrambled to its feet, grabbed something from one of the boulders and set out towards him – across the whole pond.

'_Baka_!' Ryuichi mentally moaned. 'As if he wasn't already as wet as one can possibly get!'

Shuichi climbed up on the shore and tilted his head to the side to get water out of his ear. Ryuichi fought the urge to slap his forehead. Sometimes he wasn't all that surprised that Yuki Eiri wanted to get rid of this kid for a while. Nevertheless, the way the man went about it was wrong. Not to mention that in the end things turned out like this and _Ryuichi_ was the one who had to worry.

"Ryu-chan, you're back!" the wet chicken exclaimed despite his loudly chattering teeth, and attempted to throw himself onto Ryuichi.

Ryuichi warded him off by extending his hands between them. He wondered if spanking Shuichi would help him wake up and see the stupidity of his actions. "Get in the house. Now."

o

Shuichi gulped and, wide-eyed, followed the man down the garden path to the living room. It was cold and stinking inside. Maybe the cleaning hadn't been the best idea…? But it _had_ to be done! He was actually proud on the work he had done here.

He sat down on the floor in the bedroom and waited while Ryuichi went about through the darkness, closing all the windows.

Then Ryuichi lit up and finally faced the shivering boy.

o

"For kami's sake, are you insane?" Ryuichi demanded, too distressed to censor himself. He was also a little scared that Shuichi really wasn't all there.

Shuichi's hair stuck to his face. It was dark purple with wetness, and contrasted sharply with the bluish-white skin. His lips were almost as purple as his hair. Apart from the constant quivering, he looked like he was dead.

"How long have you been out there?"

Shuichi tried to answer, but instead he sneezed.

Ryuichi rubbed his temples. "If you weren't sick a few hours ago you certainly are now."

"Are you mad, Ryu-chan?" the boy asked quietly and his eyes widened yet more. He looked completely and utterly pathetic.

It wrenched Ryuichi's heart just to look at him.

"Am I a nuisance…? W-well, I know I am… I just…"

Ryuichi sighed and shook his head. Of course, Shuichi was a bit of a nuisance, but so was Ryuichi himself, and so was one of the most important people in his life, so it wasn't a reason to be angry. He was just worried.

"Strip," he ordered. "Get under the cover. I'll be back."

o

Ryuichi dropped in to throw a towel at the boy and left again. He returned a while later with two steaming mugs of tea. He set them down on the floor, because there was no table in the room.

Shuichi had meanwhile dried off, and now was wrapped in the covers on the futon and sheepishly peering over the edge of the fabric.

Ryuichi passed him one of the mugs.

"You really aren't mad?" the boy asked, incredulous, and sneezed again. He absently took a sip and sputtered, almost spilling the tea. "Hot!" he exclaimed.

Ryuichi closed his eyes in defeat.

Shuichi was instantly ashamed of himself – he had messed up and he still wasn't making it better. These things kept happening to him. It must have been these stupid mistakes that always irritated Yuki, but he just couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't control it. It was just a part of him.

Tears pressed into his eyes. Ryuichi never yelled at him, not even today, but he couldn't imagine the man wasn't angry. "I'm sorry, Ryu-chan! I really am!"

The man opened his eyes and gave him a small smile. "It's alright, Shu-chan. Or it will be. However, if you're going to be sick, and you _are_, we might have to stay here longer than one week."

Shuichi shook his head. He had to go back to work, and so did his friend. They couldn't afford to get detained here because of a stupid illness.

Ryuichi must have guessed what he was thinking. "Don't worry. I've bought enough food for us, and in the worst case I'll go buy more."

"But people will be looking for us-"

"There is only one person apart from me and you who knows about this place, Shu-chan."

Shuichi's eyes widened. "K-san?" he asked.

Ryuichi smirked and shook his head. "No, of course not. It is a person whom I trust _fully_. They already know that we're staying here. I had to phone them today."

"Why? What happened?" Shuichi had no idea why, but he felt nervous, as though spending time with Ryuichi had suddenly become something wrong. But they were both adult people, and they had no obligations right at this moment, so it was alright for them to go on a holiday, wasn't it?

"Shu-chan," Ryuichi said, "K knows me and he's used to my disappearances, but this is the first time _you_ have done something like this. Yuki-san called the police. They have been searching for you. It was on the radio and on the TV, too."

Shuichi wasn't able to hold the tears anymore. "I- I'm sorry, Ryu-chan… You only have trouble with me…"

"Don't be stupid!" Ryuichi exclaimed. "It was Kumaguro who wanted you to come, so he will be the only one having trouble with you. That is fair, isn't it? So don't worry, Shu-chan. It's all been sorted out. Try and get some sleep. You'll need it to get healthy again quickly. Is there something I can bring you?"

Shuichi wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried to smile gratefully, but sneezed instead. "A hanky, please…"

o

Shuichi wriggled uncomfortably. He was fed up with staring at the pink bunny hanging from the clothesline. It had been long since dry, and so was he.

However, he was also bored out of his mind. He rarely slept more than five or six hours straight, and he never stayed in bed after he woke up. This doing-nothing thing was driving him crazy. Ryuichi had mentioned that he deserved it for his foolish stunt, but then he spent a lot of time there with Shuichi to keep him company, so maybe it wasn't supposed to be a punishment, after all.

"Ryuuu-chaaan!" he whined. "Just for a while, pleeeaaase!"

A pair of blue eyes stared him down. "No. We want you to be healthy as soon as possible. We should have gone back to Tokyo tomorrow, but you're still not up to it."

Shuichi whimpered. "But Ryuuu-chaaan, I'm booored. How can you stand to spend a whole week here _alone_?"

Ryuichi shrugged. "I come, get smashed, sleep it out, get smashed again, and by the time I'm sober it's late enough to return to Tokyo."

Shuichi gulped, and the petulant expression was wiped off his face. He frowned and stared at the bunny suspended from the line. "So that's why Kuma-san didn't want to talk about it. Why, Ryu-chan?"

"That's a hard question." Ryuichi shrugged. "Maybe because there's nothing better to do… or I'm just too weak to resist the temptation."

Shuichi's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them away. Ryuichi's talk made him incredibly sad, but it wasn't something to get depressed about. After he had found out that Yuki was looking for him, he had promised to himself that he wasn't going to get depressed again, not even because he was clumsy or bored or sick.

"Ryu-chan is not weak," he stated calmly and defiantly returned the dark blue gaze.

"I don't-"

"Ryu-chan is _not_ weak. And if Kuma-san is not tough enough to stop you from drinking, I will."

Before the man could protest again, Shuichi sat up, lunged at him and hugged him with all his illness-reduced strength. At the first moment Ryuichi was too startled to react, but then he hugged back and eventually laughed quietly. "Alright."

Shuichi laughed too, and suppressed the urge to sneeze. "Ne, Ryu-chan, I'm really happy that you trust me with your secrets," he mumbled.

Ryuichi ruffled his hair. "I'm glad you are here, Shu-chan."

"Ryu-chan? The other person who know about this place… the one you phoned before… who are they?"

The man smiled. "My daughter."


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

o

"Why, Ryu-chan?"

The question hung in the silence for a while, until Shuichi noticed the dreamy lopsided smile on Ryuichi's face and the reproach he had voiced in his whine disappeared. All that remained was the sadness.

Ryuichi gently, with much more patience than Shuichi actually deserved, disentangled himself from the bear hug and uncompromisingly laid the pink-haired boy back on the futon. Then nothing happened for a while again as they waited for each other to speak.

Finally it hit Shuichi that his question wasn't all that comprehensible, and unless he asked something more specific he wasn't going to get an answer, simply because no answer existed.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a daughter?"

Ryuichi shrugged and pushed a few strands of his hair, which Shuichi had recently managed to thoroughly mess up, out of his face.

"I've never really told anyone, except Kumaguro."

In an instant Shuichi went from gloomy to starry eyed. Surprisingly, his mood swing didn't elicit any sign of annoyance from his companion. Thinking about it, Ryuichi probably had the same kind of mood swings, he just controlled them better.

The thing was, Shuichi had managed something he had been wishing for ever since they had come to this house: he had made Ryuichi trust him and tell him the things he had previously told only to Kumaguro. Then it didn't matter that he hadn't known about Ryuichi's daughter, because now he knew, and he was the only one who did.

"Why don't you tell anyone, Ryu-chan?"

Frustrated with the hair that now stubbornly refused to stay out of his face, Ryuichi reached over to a chest of drawers that seemed like a newer addition to the room, took a box out of the lowest drawer, and started rummaging in it.

"I don't want media to destroy her privacy-"

"Yeah, I understand that," Shuichi said empathically. Good thing that he would never have children. He couldn't let the reporter-vultures stalk someone he was supposed to protect, and he was still incapable of getting away from them himself. "No one should be forced to endure something like that. Especially no child."

Ryuichi's brows furrowed. He finally retracted his hand from the box, holding an old head-band. It probably had been flashing with neon green and orange at one time, but now the colours were faded. He put it on his head, taming the rat's nest of hair.

'He looks almost five years younger!' Shuichi thought, mesmerised.

"She's not exactly a child," Ryuichi explained. "In fact, she's going to be adult in… uh… on Friday."

Shuichi wanted to say something happy and offer congratulations and ask whether there was going to be a party and if he could go, but all the words got stuck in his throat as his two half-forgotten brain cells that specialised in math provided a number. Thirty-two minus eighteen was… _Fourteen?_

Ryuichi pulled out another head-band; this one was sky-blue with a pink something that could have been writing just as well as a picture, and unceremoniously stuck it on Shuichi's head. The boy battled with it and eventually won, getting his hair into a shape that resembled Ryuichi's.

"Ne, Ryu-chan..? Who is your daughter-san's mum?" he asked, cringing as he heard himself.

"I don't know her," Ryuichi replied, shocking Shuichi even worse.

Shuichi knew he was missing some point here because, honestly, he couldn't picture a fourteen-year-old Ryuichi having a baby with a woman he didn't even know and… It just didn't make sense.

Fortunately, seeing his confusion, Ryuichi mercifully explained: "Sh- She's adopted."

Even in his current perplexed state Shuichi noticed that his friend actually wanted to say something else at first, and the fact that he felt like he couldn't confide in Shuichi hurt. Still, fair to his promise, he didn't act upset, even though he certainly felt so.

Either he was too transparent, or Ryuichi knew him entirely too well, because he leant back against the chest of drawers and watched the hanging Kumaguro swing in the draught from the open window in the next room, searching for words of explanation.

Then, as if he just remembered the fact that Shuichi was ill, he pushed the boy down and pulled the cover up to his chin.

"It happened while I lived in America," Ryuichi spoke. "If you ever meet her, ask her to tell you the story – say that I would like you to know. I cannot-"

"Why can't you just tell me?" Shuichi blurted, before the last two words travelled from his ears to his brain. He blushed and fell silent.

Ryuichi smiled at the sight and continued. "I cannot tell you, because we agreed that we would tell somebody only when both of us want to."

"Oh."

Shuichi blushed harder and snuggled into the futon to hide his expression. He must have looked ridiculous, because Ryuichi burst into laughter, holding his belly and going all starry-eyed.

"Shu-chan is so funny!" He giggled. "Ryu-chan loves funny things!"

Needless to say, Shuichi turned red as a tomato.

o

"Ryuuu-chaaan!"

Ryuichi sighed, dropped the rake onto the pile of leaves, and looked up. 'Kami! _I_ was infamous for _my_ hyperness, but I don't recall ever having _this_ much energy!'

It was Wednesday, three days after they were supposed to return to Tokyo, and yet there was not a mention of the supposedly called-off search for them on the old radio he had repaired on Monday. It only caught one channel, but that was enough for them. Shuichi still had higher temperature than would be healthy, but Ryuichi had begun to consider the possibility that for someone as constantly active the boy, the state might have been natural.

Nevertheless, Ryuichi insisted that there would be no roof-climbing, no swimming in the pond, and no going on trips into the wild as long as Shuichi wasn't perfectly healthy. Or, at least, perfectly _physically_ healthy.

A pink head with the contrasting azure head-band emerged between the rose-bushes, and Shuichi ran up to him.

'Just great,' Ryuichi thought sarcastically, 'though not unexpected.'

"Shu-chan! What are you doing outside?" he asked in his best parental-like voice. He could tell it didn't work. It never worked. On _anyone_. Maybe he just didn't possess the parental something.

"Kumaguro said we should bring Ryu-chan juice so he isn't thirsty!" Shuichi responded cheerfully.

Ryuichi didn't have the heart to tell him off, but that didn't mean he wouldn't send him back inside. "Kuma-san did that?" he inquired suspiciously, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself, but, honestly, he too wanted to be young and hyper and energetic, and – damn! – he had _wanted_ to say that, so why _shouldn't_ he?

"Well… not exactly…" Shuichi admitted with those puppy-dog-eyes that looked way too much as if Ryuichi was seeing his own reflection. It just made him feel like it was himself who so desperately wanted to do something fun instead of lying in bed for many, many _boooring_ hours. Generally, Ryuichi had to admit to himself that he was very, very confused. Doing this twin stunt on other people – especially on K – was a lot of fun, but when he freaked himself out, it was going a bit too far.

"Then?" Ryuichi inquired.

Shuichi blushed, and Ryuichi felt like banging his head against the closest tree. He got a grip on himself.

"I sort of suggested it and he sort of didn't protest," Shuichi admitted.

'Why me?' Ryuichi wondered desperately, watching the pink-haired boy clad in his own old jeans (he didn't store any new clothes here), a yet older greyed t-shirt, blue head-band, and holding Kumaguro and… Shuichi was a walking catastrophe, but he was funny and nice and sporadically thoughtful and people just had to love him.

"I will have to have a talk with Kuma-chan, then. He was supposed to take care of you-"

"But, Ryu-chan, we were bored!"

Ryuichi shook his head in defeat and took the offered bottle. There was a picture of blackberries on it. He wasn't too thirsty; it had been raining at night, and the plants and soil were still wet. He was about to take a gulp so it would seem that he was grateful for the attention, but then he remembered that Shuichi wasn't a little kid to be fooled by something like that. It was easy to forget when he was almost constantly exposed to the boy's manners.

He forwent the show, put the bottle on the ground next to the rake, and glanced up at Shuichi. The look in those purple eyes (one of the very few things that continued to convince Ryuichi that he wasn't looking into a mirror) was in stark contrast with the whine in his voice and the overall demeanour. Ryuichi was certain that the boy didn't really care about him drinking the juice.

"Come on, you two." He took Shuichi by his shoulder. "I want to be sure you make it back to the bedroom and won't 'get lost' on the way there." He set out, knowing that no matter how stubborn Shuichi was, he _would_ follow.

"But Ryu-chan, I really am healthy! See? I don't sneeze anymore! I want to go watch the fishes, please, Ryu-chan!"

It was so hard to withstand that plea. The voice and the desperation in it made Ryuichi weak in the knees and he was a hair's breadth away from giving in to the whine. "Maybe tomorrow, if you are feeling as well as today."

"I'll die, Ryu-chan!" Shuichi cried.

"No, you won't. I have a collection of old vinyls. You can explore it-"

"Really? That's so cool! Ryu-chan is the best!"

Ryuichi barely kept his balance when a mass of teary, happy-go-lucky teenager threw itself at his back.

o

"Ryu-chan calls this a 'collection'?" Shuichi asked disbelievingly. "It's more like an archive! And a really messed-up one!" The last sentence faded into a grumble. There was no apparent system, and after a while of sifting through the records Shuichi started to believe that there was no _traceable_ system at all. Truth to be told, he strongly suspected that the records on top were Ryuichi's most favourite, or the most recently played ones.

"Oh sure. I can't expect system of a rock-fan! You know, Kuma-san, my records are in alphabetical order, because Yuki said that he was going to throw them out if they weren't. He _would_ do it, too. Really. Isn't…" Shuichi fought tears of frustration at the injustice. "Isn't that cruel?"

Shuichi won the fight.

Staring at the front of one of the Soul Rescuer's records, which noticeably resembled Bad Luck's most recent promotional picture, Shuichi realised that maybe it was about a highest time to have his collection in a proper disorder. To have his own box for them. To have his own room where he would put the box. In his own place.

Shuichi stopped fighting and cried freely.

o

Shuichi dropped his jeans onto the floor, not caring if they got wet. The tiles were cold against the soles of his feet, but he didn't feel the chill. Steam steadily rose from the surface of the water, and he took the last step and lowered himself into the bath.

He barely registered the bang outside when the door to the inner garden slid shut. He reached over for the soap, but his hand faltered and fell into the water with a splash that inevitably left a few more dark spots on the jeans. He didn't give a damn about the jeans, even though they were Ryuichi's. The mental and emotional weakness that had manifested in making him unable to retrieve an object he basically had at hand sent him into another fit of uncontrollable sobs.

Tears, which no longer were salty due to the impossible amount of water his tear ducts had already produced, slid down his cheeks. The two trickles met at the tip of his chin, joined in a bigger drop that fluttered and fell with the next sob. It landed on his right knee, sticking out of the water, and continued sliding along the inner side of his thigh until it became one with the bath.

Then another tear followed the same path.

He didn't know how long he sat there like that, but the steam wasn't thick anymore and the water wasn't scorching enough to make his skin redden when the door to the bath opened and a pair of bare feet padded inside.

Shuichi was facing the opposite direction, but he knew it was Ryuichi. On one hand, there was no one else in the house with them; on the other, Ryuichi had a special way of moving and, after five days spent listening to them, Shuichi would recognise his footsteps anywhere.

He listened, unmoving, as Ryuichi fumbled with his clothes, put them neatly on the chair, and approached the bath. He leant over the rim, until the water surface in front of Shuichi showed his reflection, and checked the water's temperature.

"It's not warm enough, Shu-chan. You should come out. You still aren't healthy." His voice was quiet and calm, and it touched Shuichi.

The boy took a deep breath and forced himself to answer as normally as he was able to. "Just a while longer, Ryu-chan, please."

Ryuichi stepped into the bath, knelt down behind Shuichi, put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to half-turn and face him. "What's wrong, Shu-chan?"

Shuichi shook his head. "N-nothing."

Ryuichi cupped the back of Shuichi's head in his other hand and brought their foreheads together; the tips of their noses were touching and Ryuichi's hair tickled Shuichi's cheeks. It felt nice. Shuichi rarely felt so nice. He wished Ryuichi would hug him tighter and hold him, like he had done when Shuichi had been crying after the fall from the garden house roof.

"What's wrong?" Ryuichi repeated.

"I want to be with you," Shuichi blurted out before he could stop himself.

Strangely, afterwards he felt slightly better, as though some kind of pressure was lifted from his chest. He had said the truth, and although it maybe wasn't meant to be said, he was still glad that he had let Ryuichi know. His straightforwardness often landed him in trouble, but hopefully this time there wouldn't be any.

The corners of Ryuichi's mouth quirked up. He hesitated, and then gently kissed Shuichi's cheekbone.

"Ryu-chan, you've been drinking," Shuichi said, already regaining his – questionable – mental stability.

"I… am sorry…" Ryuichi muttered into Shuichi's hair. "Need to be stronger… gather courage to tell… the truth."

Shuichi sadly shook his head, stood up, and offered his hand. "Come on, Ryu-chan. The water is not warm enough. You don't want to get sick."


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

o

"Shu-chan?" Ryuichi's divine voice cracked and Shuichi jerked away, hoping for the nightmare to dissolve quickly… until he realised that it was not a nightmare. Ryuichi's voice really had cracked. About a foot from Shuichi's left ear.

Shuichi forced his eyes to open and squinted at the man.

Ryuichi's face was bathed in the light of the rising sun, and it made for one of the most pleasurable views Shuichi had ever woken up to. He was completely befuddled, obviously trying to make out what exactly had transpired that could result in him sharing the futon with Shuichi, who still wasn't all that healthy and safe to be close to.

Shuichi smiled and tugged on his left hand. It was stuck somewhere between Ryuichi's right upper arm, ribcage and left wrist. The grip loosened, and another tug released his hand completely. Good thing, too, because it was asleep.

"Morning…" Shuichi mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the recently freed limb.

"Shu-chan?" Ryuichi repeated. This time there was a hint of fear in his voice. "What happened?"

"I had a bath," Shuichi reminded the man, "and you took the chance and emptied the rest of the bottle you had stashed in the cupboard."

"How…" Ryuichi fell silent.

By the way his expression changed from puzzled to worried and then to fearful, Shuichi knew the memories of yesterday were coming back. As for how he had found out about the liquor, well, he _had_ been virtually grounded in the house for five days, so there was not a mouse-hole he didn't know about.

"Did I…?" Ryuichi bit his lip.

The sight filled Shuichi's chest with ache. He didn't want Ryuichi to be upset. Ever.

"Did I make…?"

Shuichi freed his hand from under the covers and reached over to the man lying next to him. The tips of his fingers brushed a cheek and removed a strand of hair from Ryuichi's eyes.

Ryuichi choked. "…a pass at you?"

Shuichi had to think about that. Had Ryuichi made a pass? He couldn't decide. It was himself who had created the strange atmosphere between them, yet, on the other hand, nothing had really happened. Even though Ryuichi had not been exactly drunk because there had not been enough alcohol left for that, he couldn't have controlled himself well enough, and Shuichi had decided that the best he could do was make the man sleep it out. So they ended here. Together.

It felt good to sleep so close to Ryuichi.

"No," he said in the end. "Ne, Ryu-chan, can I go watch the fishes today?"

Ryuichi hesitated, as if he were worried that he had made a pass, but Shuichi had failed to recognise the attempt. He caught Shuichi's hand and absentmindedly let his thumb stroke the knuckles. "All right. But you'll only watch. No catching them, and _definitely_ no swimming with them."

o

They were both determined to spend the day carefully dancing around the subject but, unluckily, Shuichi never was one for subtlety, and while Ryuichi usually could manipulate anyone into anything, the boy's presence seemed to be a disruptive element. Ryuichi just couldn't bring himself to not be entirely honest with the sprite.

So, after he pulled Shuichi down from the wall of the garden house by the leg of his jeans and _just_ stopped the kid from running into the pond by catching the scruff of his t-shirt in a death-grip, Ryuichi was so stressed and tired that he just caved in. Claiming that if Shuichi was absolutely unable to restrain himself from any tomfoolery, he was going to return to bed and remain there until Ryuichi personally gave him the permission to leave it.

Poor Shuichi tried to plead, but Ryuichi refused to listen. He put a load of records and the stereo into the boy's arms and pushed him into the bedroom. Pop star or not, as long as he was going to act like a child, he was going to be treated like a child.

"Ryuuu-chaaan…"

Small hands pounded on the door from the inner side and Ryuichi sighed, leaning back against the wood. It quaked with Shuichi's desperate hits. The noise went on and on, irregular thumping interposed here and there by a whiny plea for freedom.

Ryuichi was already on the verge of giving in and letting Shuichi out, when silence finally fell, all of sudden.

He sighed again, this time with relief, and went out to gather the things Shuichi had managed to scatter throughout the garden in the few hours he had spent there. He briefly wondered if the boy himself knew where all his things were, but then realised that it was absolutely impossible to keep track of all that stuff. Shuichi needed someone to create and maintain order for him, and that someone most certainly could _not_ be Ryuichi, simply because Ryuichi hated tidying up and any kind of order in general.

"_With a sweet voice I sing farewell, o__n a moonlit night I draw near to your face. __The song I play on my memories leads everyone into a meadow…_"

Shuichi's voice definitely wasn't made for a song of that kind, but somehow it sounded even better than the original, as far as Ryuichi remembered the original. There was no trace of Shuichi's illness in the clear melody.

Drawn closer against his will, Ryuichi stood in front of the bedroom and listened.

"_One white lamp-light is left on the road where someone has walked. Someday these feelings will reach that someone in that faraway place and time, for surely, you are there…_"

Then Shuichi hushed, and Ryuichi was left to listen to the background music that he hadn't previously heard. There were several thumping steps, a quiet clank of glass and another thump as Shuichi landed on the floor. Judging by the absence of screams and crying, the boy wasn't injured.

On the other hand, Shuichi never complained when something _truly_ ailed him.

"Shu-chan?" Ryuichi called out.

He received no answer.

Concerned, he pushed the door open and entered the bedroom. He had expected it to be in quite the same state of disorder as the garden had been before he had tended to it, and thus was greatly surprised by the fact that all the things he had lent to his young friend were neatly sorted under the window, between the wardrobe and the chest of drawers. Only the case of the soundtrack Shuichi was currently listening to lay in the way, next to the stereo.

Trouble was, Shuichi himself was sitting on the futon and taking a really big gulp directly from the bottle Ryuichi had forgotten to take away from there more than a week ago.

"Shu-chan!" Ryuichi said more harshly than he had intended to.

In four quick strides he crossed the room and snatched the bottle out of the boy's hands.

Shuichi sputtered all over the futon. It took him a few moments to compose himself. When he did, though, he sat straight and cast an uncharacteristic glare upwards. "Give it back, Ryu-chan," he said calmly, but in a tone that clearly stated he wasn't about to debate. Hell, Shuichi _demanded_ something. There was a first time for everything.

"No."

Shuichi frowned and climbed to his feet, finding his balance with the help of the wall. He reached up as though to push his bangs out of his eyes, but caught the head-band instead, pulled it off and let it fall to the floor.

"I'm not a kid, Ryu-chan. I am an adult," he claimed, and he made to walk out of the room.

It took Ryuichi an entire second to realise how he had been acting. He had been so worried that he hadn't let Shuichi do what he wanted but forced him to do what he thought was best for him. In the process he had forgotten that he wasn't Shuichi's parent, that he wasn't responsible for him, and that he definitely didn't have the right to order him to do anything.

"I'm so-"

"Don't apologise, Ryu-chan," Shuichi cut in. "I just wonder…" Shuichi spun o his heel and faced his friend. Fury shone in his eyes.

Ryuichi never would have thought it possible for the boy to feel such an emotion, not _this_ powerful. It only added to his shame. Shuichi was definitely not a child, even though he acted like one most of the time. He might not have been a responsible person, not even able to sufficiently care for himself, but he had lived through his share of pain and gathered an amount of experience that gave him every right to drink alcohol whenever he wanted to.

"You're right, Shu-"

Shuichi snorted. "Does at least Kumaguro know you are a coward?"

o

The words hurt, but Shuichi had to say it. He believed what he had said, and he was proud of himself for being completely truthful with Ryuichi, who had during the last week and half become his best friend and kind of surrogate family. If he hadn't said that, he would have been a coward himself.

Ryuichi froze, shocked, wordless.

The reaction hurt Shuichi all the more, but this would have come up between them sooner or later and, after yesterday evening, he wanted to know. He _needed_ to know. He had found out things about Ryuichi that made it hard to breathe and made his heart beat so very fast and…

He blinked to prevent tears from leaking out. This was a battle. As soon as it was over he would be free to cry all he wanted. He would be able to cry his heart out, if necessary. However, right now Ryuichi had to face a determined young man instead of a snivelling kid.

"C-coward…" Ryuichi turned pale and his hands trembled. The bottle slid out from his fingers and landed on the floor. Fortunately, it didn't shatter.

Shuichi blinked again and took a step forwards, closer to the man. His bangs got into his eyes again, but he fisted his hands instead of pushing his hair away. "Yes, Ryu-chan. Do you have to get drunk to pluck up courage to say something to me? I thought we trusted each other. I tell you everything. I mean _everything_. I can tell you I really hate the taste of alcohol, but I would have drunk that bottle. That I sometimes perform without underwear because it makes me feel wild. That I didn't want to make love to Yuki the first time we did it. I can tell you-"

"Stop! Stop it, Shu… please…" Ryuichi shivered.

Shuichi felt a painful pang in his heart. He didn't give a damn about being shut in a room and bored to death for five days. He didn't care about Ryuichi not telling him before that he had a daughter. But he wanted an answer.

He reduced the distance between them with another step. "I told you I wanted to be with you, Ryu-chan. And you didn't say anything. I had to drag you from the bath and force you into bed. You are not all that responsible either… but for some reason I don't care."

Ryuichi's stare was silently begging for Shuichi to give up, but it was too late now. Shuichi had already crossed all the lines.

"You are sober now, Ryu-chan. Do you have the courage to give me an answer?"

Ryuichi took a half-step forwards to meet Shuichi and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "It would not be fair to tell you, Shu-chan."

"I'm an adult. I can deal with it." Shuichi crossed the rest of the distance and pressed his lips against Ryuichi's. Hindered by the hands on his shoulders, his own hands couldn't reach too far; one stopped at the waistband of Ryuichi's jeans and the other stroked the side of his belly.

The kiss lasted several seconds longer than it was supposed to and Shuichi was surprised when he realised he wasn't melting into it. Not like he always fell apart with Yuki. This time he felt stronger. He had been right, and he had won the fight. Now he could cry, but he didn't want to anymore.

Ryuichi gently pushed him away. "Shu-chan… I don't… I don't _love_ you like that."

The pink-haired boy smiled. "I know. I prayed for a kami to show me the way… but all I see is you, Ryu-chan. I want to be with you. There's nothing more to it."

Ryuichi's eyes were full of something that Shuichi identified as concern, but as he cupped Ryuichi's face and planted a small, promising kiss on his lips, the steely blue softened and Shuichi knew Ryuichi did love him. Maybe not like that, but in a way maybe loved him more than anybody had ever loved him.

"You should break up with Yuki-san first," Ryuichi whispered, stroking Shuichi's cheek and pushing the bothersome bangs out of his face.

"He threw me out!" Shuichi protested and the lightning returned to his eyes.

Ryuichi's breath caught and he knew he couldn't withstand the boy's charm. The violet storm sparked the suppressed lust within him and he was hair's breadth away from complying.

"He _said_ he doesn't want me to come back," Shuichi continued. The tone of his voice indicated that he had come to terms with that. "He… I won't hold back because of someone who lives to hurt me."

"I'll never intentionally hurt you, Shu-"

"I know-"

Shuichi kissed him again, and this time it was for real. He tasted faintly of the liquor, but Ryuichi liked that taste. He was close to addicted to it.

The non-existent height-difference was a first for Ryuichi, and he could tell it was the same for Shuichi. Moreover, they both wore his clothes, and – damn! – they had the same shape of mouth and hands and nose and it was too much like kissing himself, just ten years younger… but at that moment Ryuichi felt nineteen again and the boy in his arms had such experience, which he was putting to use, that Ryuichi was already beyond the point of no return.

Shuichi pulled him down on the futon and Ryuichi straddled the boy without a second thought. His t-shirt was disposed of in response. Shuichi's fingers could do wonders. Ryuichi had never expected anything like that and, cursing himself, thought that Yuki Eiri was an idiot to ever let Shuichi leave.

Shuichi took a deep breath. "Do you-"

Ryuichi silenced him faster than he could finish. "Hush. I said I'll never hurt you."

o

Shuichi jerked out of his sleep with a start. Ryuichi, lying next to him, stirred and rubbed his eyes.

Shuichi tried to identify the sound that had woken them. There it was again: the roar of an engine.

The only road in such a close proximity led straight to the gate of the Sakuma family house.

In the darkness, Shuichi reached for the closest piece of clothing. It was a t-shirt. Not good enough. The next one was a pair of jeans. There was no time to contemplate who had been wearing them before (not that it mattered, because they were almost exactly the same size), because someone banged on the door, twice.

Ryuichi must have left the gate unlocked.

There was another double-bang as soon as Shuichi stepped into the hall, and he virtually skidded over the last three meters of the _genkan_. He picked up the bat rested against the door-frame – just in case, although it wouldn't help him if the late-night visitor was K – and opened the door.

In the cone of the glow from the lamp overhead stood a young woman. She was tiny, smaller than Shuichi himself, wore a leather jacket and high military boots, and held a crash helmet under her left arm. The right arm was already raised for the third round of banging.

She scrutinised Shuichi from head to toes, noted the lack of clothing (which could be innocently ascribed to the late hour) and the just-climbed-out-of-the-bed hairstyle. Shuichi, in turn, noticed even in the faint light that she wasn't Japanese, and also that there was an odd motorbike standing in the shadows.

"_Konban wa_," she said.

"Uh… _konban wa_?" Shuichi responded.

He was about to ask whether he could help her somehow, when she looked over his shoulder into the darkness and shouted: "Ryu-chan! Get here this instant! And if you try to claim you had come ten years into the future to visit, and dyed your hair to match Kumaguro's fur, let me say straight I don't believe you!"

There was a shocked gasp somewhere in the depth of the house.

Ryuichi tumbled out of the bedroom. "Shi-"

"Ryuuuu-chaaaan!" she yelled, passed around the stunned pink-haired boy and threw herself around Ryuichi's neck. He caught her, stumbling a bit to keep his balance. A few seconds later she loosened her grip and Ryuichi put her down onto the floor. His expression was a blend of amazement and happiness. "Shiira! What the Hell are you doing here?"


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

o

"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm making sure that you don't forget the party!" she said in English, grinned and put her hands on her hips, "By the way, my bike's out there, so you should really lock the gate this time."

Ryuichi nodded.

Shuichi gaped as the man walked past both of them, un-hung the keys from the rack, pulled up his jeans – which had green blotches on the back, so it definitely was the pair Shuichi had worn yesterday – and went to secure the entrance.

The girl deposited her helmet in the corner of the room and stripped her jacket. Shuichi felt very uncomfortable just staying there and tried to come up with something to occupy him. Eventually he went to put the bat back against the wall and turn up the light. The living room filled with golden shine and the girl squinted to let her eyes adjust to the change. She yawned and rubbed her eyes with much the same motion that Ryuichi did a while ago.

Shuichi gulped and then realised that there was no reason for him to pretend anything, so he just stared at her.

She was kind of okay-looking, for a girl, even though it was obvious that she didn't pay much attention to her appearance. The trousers she had on were decidedly a man's cut, and they looked like she had inherited them. He blushed a bit, reminded of the fact that he was wearing Ryuichi's jeans in this very instance. Anyway, the girl had no make-up on and her hair was a mess from the helmet, but she didn't seem to care.

Then she looked back at him and smiled. She had a nice smile.

Shuichi supposed that he should introduce himself or something.

She yawned again and sat down on the floor. They just stared at each other until Ryuichi got back and closed the door behind him, shutting out the uncomfortable draught. He wearily glanced at each of them, and promptly went hyper.

"Shiira-chaaan!" Ryuichi switched to English. "Kumaguro has missed you! He wanted to go to Los Angeles this Friday-"

"But you couldn't make it. I know," she said and her smile widened. "That's why I came here! We can have a party anyway!"

Shuichi pinched himself. To his intense disappointment, he found that he was awake. He knew there had to be an explanation, but his brain was hormone-drugged and still convinced that at this time it should have been enjoying all the appeals of sleep.

The strange girl once again draped herself all over the unsuspecting Ryuichi.

"Ryu-chan," she said softly, hugging him as tight as she could without cutting off his air supply. "I missed you so much. What were you thinking, leaving for a year?"

"Shiira…" Ryuichi sighed. "There's nothing for you in Japan. You should have stayed in the States-"

"And party with my schoolmates, and live alone in the villa you've oh-so-cleverly let me become the owner of on the day I come of age?"

Despite her still speaking quietly, Shuichi could hear her pain. He couldn't imagine Ryuichi leaving for a year, and they were _only_ friends. There was some important unresolved issue between the two hugging people in front of him, and he had a distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to watch. He stepped out, towards the bedroom, and belatedly realised that it might have been a good idea to tidy up the mess there before the girl decided to walk in.

"Do you want to get rid of me?" she whispered and Shuichi's heart clenched.

"It would have been easier for you-"

Shuichi turned back to the hall, scowling at Ryuichi. He had virtually no idea about what was going on, but that was his friend there making an idiot of himself.

"Ryu-chan," Shuichi said, "don't forget what I told you today."

As though they just now realised that he was still there, they let go of each other. Ryuichi sank down onto the floor and put his face into his hands. The girl, on the other hand, went to Shuichi, who braced himself for a verbal or physical attack.

Instead, she hugged him, making a perfect impression of Ryuichi. "Oh, sorry, Shuichi-san, I forgot to introduce myself." She stood on her own feet again and grinned _up_ at him. "I'm Sakuma Sheila."

'Sister?' Shuichi thought in mild panic. 'He has no siblings. Wife? No.' Then it struck him. 'Daughter!'

The shock of suddenly seeing the phantom 'Ryuichi's child' rendered Shuichi temporarily speechless. She vigorously shook his hand and started bouncing with happiness at seeing him almost the same way she did after seeing Ryuichi.

Shuichi finally managed to stammer: "H-how do you know my name?"

"I've got your poster stuck to the ceiling over my bed. And I've got your CD, the posters series, all the videos there are and a CD of never published promotional pictures!" she rattled out and glanced back at the gloomy Ryuichi. "You know how obsessive Ryu-chan gets."

"I guess…" Shuichi mumbled, thinking more of Ryuichi than caring about Bad Luck fanware being distributed into USA by his idol. Then it hit him. "Wait! _Those_ promotional pictures?"

Sheila grinned, and he already knew the answer.

"That's not fair!" Shuichi protested. "Those pictures weren't supposed to ever get out! Ryu-chan!"

"_Those_ are there too," Sheila assured him. "At least you don't have to worry about not wearing a shirt in front of me."

Shuichi almost fell over, but Sheila caught his hand and saved him from a new bruise. She kept smiling at him. Ryuichi was blushing somewhere to the left, as far as Shuichi could see through between the man's fingers. It was the first time Shuichi saw him blush and it was _so_ cute.

"Ne," he addressed the alleged father-daughter pair, "I suppose you won't be missing me. I'll go catch some sleep yet, if you don't mind."

Sheila looked like she wanted to stop him, but Ryuichi nodded to him, looking much too serene, so Shuichi decided it would be best to leave them alone so they could resolve their issues. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt either of them too much in the end.

o

"_Shh_, Ryu-chan – you'll wake Shuichi," Sheila whispered.

It was too late, but Shuichi didn't stir, didn't let them know he was awake. It wasn't fair, but if they were having a serious conversation – and by the sound of it they were – then he didn't want to disturb them.

"I doubt that," Ryuichi replied. "He's a sound sleeper."

"Still." When Ryuichi didn't acknowledge her objection, Sheila asked instead: "What was it he told you?"

"He…" Ryuichi took a deep breath. There was a shuffling sound as Sheila padded over to him on all four. "He told me I was a coward."

The girl chuckled. Shuichi wished he could see what was going on, but it wasn't worth the trouble he might get into made by being spotted.

"He was not right, Ryu-chan," Sheila said. "You merely often make the mistake of presuming you know what's best for others. Like leaving me alone in LA. It was a jolly good year, I tell you. I had a few wonderful conversations with the maid – well, as wonderful as they get when she knows five English words."

Ryuichi quietly laughed, and Sheila let out a content sigh.

"Yeah, and I had the telly, but it tends to prefer monolouge to two-sided chat…"

"You learnt Japanese," Ryuichi stated, and then there was the sound of liquid being poured.

Shuichi had the distinct feeling that he knew what was happening to the bottle he hadn't been allowed to drink from. Not that he minded. He really didn't like the taste.

"Nothing better to do with my time-"

"Your Japanese is definitely better!" Ryuichi cut her off. "Now you know more than five words-"

"I knew more than five words! I knew all the important ones."

"_Tasukete_." Ryuichi's voice was very quiet, odd and very sad. It almost made Shuichi want to cry just from listening.

"_Hai_."

There was a while of silence and rustling of clothes as they moved.

"You could have at least written," Sheila said flatly.

"Can't spell."

"You shouldn't have left me alone." There was a strange edge to her voice, as well as some wistfulness.

"I made sure you had everything you needed."

"Bullshit!" Sheila hissed. "You took away everything I had. Ryu-chan, _you_ were the one who gave me a real home. And it wasn't a home because of the airport-sized bed, or because of all the money I could use or because the maid was taking care of my mess twice a week. It was because _you_ were there and I could…" there was a slight pause as Sheila gulped.

Shuichi couldn't stand any longer. He opened his eyes, ever so slightly.

Ryuichi was sprawled on the floor, leaning back against the wall and holding _the_ bottle. Sheila sat on her heels between his legs. She emptied a glass just as Shuichi looked at her. She seemed… disconsolate. She looked up at Ryuichi, who was watching her with affection that easily matched the one he expressed toward Shuichi, and the corners of her mouth turned down.

"I could talk to you," she mused. "You helped me with my silly little problems, you _attempted_ to make supper when I sprained my ankle… Ryu…" She sobbed.

"Shiira-chan-"

"Don't Shiira-chan me!" she protested. "You have no idea what I went through, do you? Hell… I came here because I _knew_ you wouldn't make it to the party. I brought candles and a party-hat for you, but I guess I better give it to Shuichi. If he wants to stay-"

Ryuichi shook his head. "We have to return to Tokyo-"

Sheila's eyes blazed with anger. "No, you don't. Not today and not tomorrow. You stayed for him-"

"He was sick-"

"I know," she agreed. "Look at _me_. Am _I _alright? Am _I_ ready for the road back?"

Ryuichi sighed, leant forwards and gathered the girl in his arms. Her fisted hand rested on his shoulder, and Shuichi closed his eyes again before either of them noticed him.

"Shiira… Shu-chan _was_ right. I _am_ a coward."

Sheila laughed, though it was more than slightly wry. "You should spend more time with him. He's a good influence on you."

"Yeah, I'm going crazier each day."

"_Baka_," she grumbled. "You know, when I drove here, I was almost sure that I'd find you three sheets to the wind."

"We can remedy that," Ryuichi suggested.

Shuichi scowled.

"Don't even _think_ that," Sheila said, echoing Shuichi's thoughts. "Ryu-chan, there are other ways of dealing with life than alcohol. Trust me. _I_ know that."

"I know."

Falling asleep, Shuichi belatedly realised that Sheila had been scaring him ever since she came. And then he realised that she wasn't going to stop so easily.

o

Shuichi was, predictably, awaken by the sound of Ryuichi's voice about four hours before he had intended to wake up.

"Are you wearing my clothes on purpose or is it just a provocation?"

Sheila stood in the doorway, with her hands on her hips. She looked just as agitated as Ryuichi, even though it seemed to Shuichi as though they both were having fun despite the glares they kept casting at each other. The girl was dressed just as she had been the previous evening, merely lacking the jacket. Shuichi couldn't recall the jacket in detail, but he would have bet it had once belonged to Ryuichi as well.

"Wouldn't provocation be a purpose?" she inquired and casually raked her fingers through her hair. They struck a knot and she gave up. She gathered the hair it into a makeshift bun and ignored the strands that escaped.

"Fine," Ryuichi grumbled and clutched Kumaguro tightly, at first pretending to throw a tantrum, then changing his mind and instead asking: "_Why_ are you wearing my clothes?"

"Because my jeans are threadbare on the knees," she answered easily.

Somehow Shuichi didn't doubt it was truth; at least if she treated all her clothes and accessories with the same level of care.

"And you know what that does on a motorbike-"

"We've left you more money than you could spend in ten years!" Ryuichi and Kumaguro objected in 'unison'. "Why didn't you buy-"

"You know how I feel about shopping," Sheila shot back.

Shuichi's eyes widened in total incomprehension. "How?" he asked Ryuichi, never mind that it wasn't any of his business.

It was the pink bunny who answered: "Shiira-chan hates shopping."

Shuichi's jaw dropped and his eyes darted between the two Sakumas, wondering if they were making fun of him or if he had just misunderstood something. "What? How? Why? I mean… is that even possible?"

"Apparently," Ryuichi concluded with a shrug.

His daughter scowled at him. "Besides, you've got a room full of clothes you don't wear."

"Those are from concerts!" Ryuichi exclaimed. "They are not _supposed_ to be worn among people!"

Shuichi gulped, remembering some of the things he had seen Ryuichi wear in his videos and during live performances throughout the years. If Ryuichi stepped out into the street dressed like that, people would tear him into tiny pieces and take those home as souvenirs.

"They don't look that terribly out of place," Sheila protested, looking down at herself. "Mostly."

"Oh, for kami-sama's sake!" Ryuichi groaned.

Shuichi couldn't help but think it was somehow Ryuichi's fault, for leaving the poor girl alone in that country. She had sure as Hell attracted attention if she had ever dressed in any of Sakuma Ryuichi's stage outfits.

"Shiira-chan," Ryuichi implored, "I've adopted a daughter so there was somebody who could use all the money-"

"Is that the reason why you adopted me?" she asked with the teariest expression without actual tears Shuichi could even imagine. Obviously, she had had a lot of practice.

"Oh." Ryuichi hung his head, looking at Kumaguro in defeat. "I concede. No, it's not-"

"See?" Sheila pointed out. "You love me just the way I am, no matter whose clothes I wear." Sheila wrapped herself around her father – it still felt weird to think of Ryuichi as a father – and mock-whispered into his ear: "Or all the more."

With a breeze and the flutter of the over-sized t-shit she had on, she strode out of the room. Ryuichi looked up and Shuichi burst into laugh. This was the craziest family he had ever met, and he had his own and Yuki's to compare it to.

"Shu-chan, this is an important lesson you should remember for your life," Ryuichi said in what was supposed to be a completely serious tone.

"Is it?" Shuichi asked between chuckles.

"You can never win an argument against a woman."

It was funny to watch Ryuichi hold onto a pink bunny plushy as though it was the one thing that could save him from the wrath of the girl he had fostered. Shuichi wondered how Ryuichi could have ever left anyone like her behind, especially seeing as they apparently enjoyed each other's company.

"Good thing I prefer men, then." Shuichi snickered and climbed to his feet. He snagged a t-shirt and proclaimed himself sufficiently dressed for the moment.

He waved to Ryuichi and went out to find Sheila. He had a few questions to ask her.

o

"Sheila-san!" Shuichi called out.

She was standing in front of the house, pulling on her jacket. Now, in the daylight, Shuichi could see it in all its custom-made perfection, with spangles along the collar and big shiny silvery lettering that read 'Sakuma Ryuichi' on its back. He understood perfectly well why Sheila preferred Ryuichi's stage clothes.

She turned around and grinned at him. "Don't mind us, Shuichi-san. It just feels… feels so great to talk to him again. I missed him."

"I can imagine," Shuichu said and, on second thought, added: "Don't call me that, please. Shuichi-_san_ sounds so _official_." He didn't say aloud that he wanted them to be like a family because he felt so about Ryuichi. It just didn't seem right. Not yet. He didn't even know her.

"Ok," she agreed. "On the condition that you won't use the '-_san_' thing on me. If I was Japanese, it would make me uncomfortable, too."

It was probably meant to be a joke, but Shuichi didn't quite get it, so he just grinned back at her. "I want to ask you something."

Sheila glanced at her wrist-watch (it was also male design, and Shuichi didn't doubt it had originally belonged to Ryuichi). She scratched her head, messing up the bun even worse than it already was. Now it looked as if she hadn't done anything to her hair since she had woken up.

"I wanted to get into town before twelve," she said, "but I've never been around here. It's a small miracle I found the house yesterday. It's going to take more time. Do you mind asking along the way?"

"N-no…" Shuichi stammered, confronted with the realisation that Sheila was even more prone to ordering people around than her foster-father, and even less aware of doing it. "I can't go out like this." Shuichi was still wearing only the jeans he had snatched in the evening and the t-shirt. He didn't think going for a ride on a motorbike not dressed and this early after an illness was a good idea. He'd freeze into a Shuichicicle. Also he didn't fancy a ride on motorbike without underwear.

"Doesn't matter," Sheila waved her hand, "I have a better idea anyway… _Ryu-chaaan_!"

Shuichi cringed, because it was his ear next to which she yelled. She had a damn strong voice, capable of creating exactly the frequency that made his ears tingle.

Ryuichi stuck his head out into the _genkan_. "Hai, Shi-"

"Get your ass out here!" Sheila ordered.

Laughing like a kid, fully dressed, as though he had anticipated the request, and even carrying his helmet, Ryuichi ran out of the house, jumped off the second-highest stair and landed on the grass about a foot from Sheila. She must have been used to it, because she didn't even flinch.

Shuichi knew he would have jumped a mile at something crazy like that.

"Language, daughter-chan!" Kumaguro yelled reproachfully.

Sheila mock-rolled her eyes and searched through the extensive number of pockets on her trousers and on the jacket. Finally, she reached down and retrieved a folded piece of paper from her right boot.

"Here's the list, Ryu-chan. You are lousy at spelling, but you _can_ read. Don't think I didn't see you-"

"_Hai, hai_," Ryuichi admitted. "Anything for the birthday-girl." He took a step past Sheila, then turned around, grabbed her around her waist and pulled her backwards against him.

The girl yelped, lost balance, and literally fell into his arms. Ryuichi gave her a kiss that could have been called obscene if they both hadn't burst in laugh afterwards. Sheila punched his shoulder; Ryuichi muttered a quiet 'ouch' and rubbed the spot.

"Don't do anything naughty, kids," he warned them. "I'll be back before you can say ."

"See you, Ryu-chan," Sheila said, smiling.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

o

"I can't see why he doesn't want me to wear this. He's got tons of this stuff," Sheila grumbled, tossing the 'Sakuma Ryuichi' jacket into a random corner of the living room. "I like this one best, because it has real pockets, not just imitations like the others."

"Why?" Shuichi asked.

"Dunno." She shrugged. "Ryu-chan said he wanted to have some space to stash away used bubble-gums but, before you ask, I never found a single one in it."

That wasn't what Shuichi had asked about. "Sheila-chan…"

She took his hand and made him lead her into the garden. She wanted to go to the garden house, but Shuichi pouted at her, and while she laughed he dragged her over to the pond to watch the fishes.

"So, what did you want to ask, Shu-chan?" Sheila inquired once they had found a nice spot.

Shuichi sat down at the root of his favourite willow tree and leant over the boulders in the shallows to look into the crystal-clear water. Three big red fishes were swimming close to the shore. "How did you get adopted by Ryu-chan?"

There was a sigh close behind his back, which told him that Sheila was also sitting. "I can't-"

"Ryu-chan said he wanted me to know. He said I should ask you."

"Aha."

There was a while of silence. Then Shuichi belatedly remembered the formulation Ryuichi had used back then and realised that might not have been the problem. "Sorry, don't tell me if _you_ don't want to."

There was another while of silence.

"Ryu-chan told me a lot about you last night," Sheila said. "You are a good kid-"

Shuichi tried to protest, but she made him hush with a single gesture.

"Don't argue. Even though you are older than me, you are a good kid. Something which I've never been and will never be. And I don't know if it's a good idea to tell you a story that's not meant for kids."

"I-"

"Shu-chan, I know how Ryu-chan knows you. But how do you know Ryu-chan?"

A gentle tug on his shoulders made Shuichi lean back; it was softer and completely different than leaning against Yuki. Sheila was smaller, and edgy in places where Yuki would have been flat. She was warm and smelled of female perspiration instead of cologne.

"Tell me," she demanded.

"Ryu-chan," Shuichi said, "since I first heard him, he was like… like a _kami_ to me. An idol. I always wanted to be like him."

Sheila chuckled, but beckoned him to continue.

"When I met him he was so _completely_ different that it was almost _impossible_. At first I didn't want to believe it… but he was… and he became a friend. Thinking back on it, he helped me with a lot of things and I never noticed."

"Yeah, he does that a lot. Or at least tries to. He's got one damn good heart," she whispered, making Shuichi's hair flutter. "Is that why you are here?"

'Is it?' Shuichi realised he couldn't know that. The only one who might have known was Ryuichi himself, and he wasn't there to answer the question. 'How did I end up coming here?'

'_Kumaguro wants Schu-chan to come with us,_' Ryuichi has said.

"Yes," Shuichi told Sheila, even though he was just guessing. "I am here because he has a great heart. But, I just… I don't think that he would have taken me with him if I was somebody else."

"So you think he wouldn't have taken just anyone?"

What kind of stupid question was that? Of course Ryuichi wouldn't have taken anyone. That was obvious. Wasn't it?

"Look," Shuichi said, pointing at her, "I know I'm not the smartest person around, but I'm not _totally_ stupid." Even Yuki probably didn't think that Shuichi was retarded. Anymore. It was just anyone's guess if Yuki gave a damn.

Sheila nodded. "So you don't believe he is a kami anymore?"

Shuichi rolled his eyes. "I'm not some kind of an infatuated teenage fan! Well, okay, maybe I am, but the only difference between Ryu-chan and me is that I am teenage."

"Indeed," the girl agreed, absently playing with Shuichi's hair.

It was actually kind of nice and helped him relax a bit. He was still nervous around her, because he had no idea what to expect, but it seemed as though she was trying to relieve some of that tension. They were two different people from two different worlds, brought together by Ryuichi, who was a good enough reason for them to co-exist as friends.

"Ne, Sheila-chan…?"

She disentangled her fingers from his hair and allowed him the freedom of movement.

Shuichi turned around and faced her. Her expression was kind of contemplative. She seemed to be prone to melancholia. Shuichi didn't like people around him being melancholic. It was bad enough when he acted like that.

"I have one question, Shu-chan," Sheila said. "Do you love Ryu-chan?"

Shuichi nodded. "Of course."

She frowned and tilted her head to the side. The bun loosened, and a curtain of dark hair fell out of the rubber band, obscuring her eye. It looked pretty cool, but she obviously wasn't content with that, because she growled in annoyance and pushed the hair behind her ear. "Not like that, Shu-chan. I mean, do you _love _him?"

'Where is Kumaguro when I need him?' Shuichi thought hopelessly. He put his thumb into his mouth so he would have something to suck on while he mused about how to answer that. "No," he said in the end, "not like that. We are…" he blushed, unable to find the right words.

"Friends with benefits?" Sheila supplied.

Shuichi processed it. It fit. It described Ryuichi and him perfectly. "_Hai_."

Sheila nodded seriously and then cracked a smile. "That's good. 'cause I was afraid that you were going to be my mum."

o

"_Tadaima_, youth!"

The door slid open and Ryuichi congratulated himself on the genius idea he had about not carrying his purchase in on his own, because he was simultaneously glomped by two teenagers. He struggled to catch his breath, congratulated himself again – this time for surviving – and then pitied himself a bit. It didn't last him long, though, because Sheila commandeered his backpack and escaped to the kitchen with it. He had to run after her to save the present before she found it, only to be unceremoniously pushed out of the room as soon as he secured the item under his jacket.

"Gee," he sighed dramatically, "parenting is a full-time job!"

"You went got into it willingly. Besides, you've been avoiding the job for a year," stated a quiet voice behind his back.

Ryuichi looked over to find Shuichi, who was currently adjusting the light blue head-band.

"I suppose she told you the story, then?"

Shuichi shook his head, leaning against the door-frame. Looking at him now, Ryuichi realised it was amazing how much the boy had matured over the course of the past two weeks. It had been a subtle change, and overshadowed by his depression, illness, boredom, and another depression. Nevertheless, the Shuichi that was standing in front of him right now was millennia away from the boy he had offered to take with him on a supposedly innocent trip away from their pain.

"She didn't. I…" As though the upper layer melted away, Shuichi shrank and threw himself at Ryuichi. "I don't need to know. We both agree that Ryu-chan is the greatest anyway!"

That was a rather confusing change. Still, Ryuichi's own personality-swaps might have appeared to be just like that to the observer, and both Shuichi and Sheila put up with them.

Just as rapidly, right in front of Ryuichi's eyes, Shuichi reverted to his original mood and planted a small kiss on his lips.

"What about Shiira?" Ryuichi asked quietly.

Shuichi shrugged. "She calls us 'friend with benefits' and seems to be happy that I'm not going to become her foster-mother."

'Can't take it ill of her,' Ryuichi thought, half-way between amused and disconcerted by the vision. He frowned, realising that he had no idea where they would go from here. Would Shuichi return to Yuki? Would Sheila fly back to LA? Was Ryuichi going to continue singing with Nittle Grasper? Was _anything_ going to change?

"Don't worry, Ryu-chan," Shuichi said, misinterpreting his frown, and gave him another kiss. "Sheila-chan is a really nice person."

"No, she's not," Ryuichi disagreed. "Not as you know her, anyway."

Shuichi frowned, too, as though he remembered something, and glanced to the kitchen door. Ryuichi followed the line of his sight and suppressed a sigh.

Sheila always seemed cool at first, then friendly if the other person was friendly, but when she got angry, she was really dangerous. If she wanted to cause pain, she most certainly could do it. Frighteningly well, too.

"What is she doing anyway?" Shuichi asked, as if he didn't really understand that Sheila was not someone to be played with.

Ryuichi felt compelled to save the boy from committing such a stupidity as going into the kitchen. "Baking. Better leave her alone."

A new sound came from the menacing door. Shuichi, horror-struck, turned to Ryuichi, and in a tiny, scared voice asked: "Ryu-chan, is she _singing_?"

o

"It sure takes Sheila-chan a lot of time," Shuichi remarked.

They had fled the living room and now were trying to kill time in the child's room, with the stereo on and _Nikolai_ singing, volume turned on maximum.

"Yup!" Ryuichi agreed. "Shiira-chan loves baking! She says it's the best way to relax – and she makes _yummy_ things!"

Shuichi hid his smile behind Kumaguro, whom he had been holding, and glanced sideways at Ryuichi. The man was obviously nervous, judging from the fact that his teeth were working on the third nail on the second hand. He kept glancing out into the hall every once in a while.

It hadn't been two hours yet, and Ryuichi was already missing the girl. However had he managed to leave her behind in America? Shuichi definitely hoped Ryuichi wasn't going to make Sheila return. It was obvious that the two of them were unhappy when alone. He had no idea if they would be happier together, but they _had_ to at least try it.

"Ne, Ryu-chan, we're leaving tomorrow, aren't we?" Shuichi asked. Part of him didn't want to return yet, but a greater part was ready to leave right now. The vacation had stopped being so nice when their shared solitude had been invaded by a loud, female, teenage American. What was it with Americans being loud and invading Japan, anyway?

"_Hai_, Shu-chan," Ryuichi confirmed. "But we will come back sometimes – if you would like to, that is."

"Of course I would like to," Shuichi said with a pout. How could Ryuichi even think that he wouldn't? He would gladly come every weekend, but it was going to be a long time before they would have a vacation again, especially after they had just missed out a week of recording. They would have to work twice as hard for the next month to make up for it.

Ryuichi triumphantly punched the air with a crayon clutched in his fist, and proudly showed off the picture he had drawn. The quality of his art hadn't increased, but Shuichi easily recognised the three figures. Ryuichi was in the middle, holding Sheila's hand in his right and Shuichi's in his left.

"Ryu-chan?" Shuichi said quietly and gloomily.

The man put the picture down and looked at him. Then he scrambled to his feet. A bit hyper, but not unreasonably so, he padded over, took Kumaguro out of Shuichi's arms and held him close. "What is it?"

"I wonder." Shuichi hated not having Kumaguro for himself right now. "I'm not sure I want to go back to Yuki. But I don't want to go to hotel either, and-"

"What is Shu-chan talking about?"

"I-"

"Shu-chan is going to come with Kumaguro to Ryu-chan's apartment in Tokyo! You wouldn't abandon Kuma-chan, would you?" Ryuichi pouted.

Shuichi cracked a grin. Ryuichi really had a unique way of telling him that he worried too much, that everything was going to work out, and that Shuichi wasn't alone.

"What about Sheila-chan?" the boy asked with badly concealed anxiety.

Ryuichi's joyfulness vanished. Apparently there _was_ a topic he was unable to joke about, or approach with a not-entirely-sane attitude. There also was something that couldn't be worked out with a nudge in the right direction, or by throwing money at it, and it was that something which created the wrinkles in the corners of Ryuichi's eyes when he frowned. Not anger. Concern. Fear.

"She will probably want to return to the USA," he said with completely fake nonchalance. "It's her home, after all."

'Somehow I doubt that,' Shuichi thought. He was a fool, but he wasn't blind. Sheila had gone through so much trouble to just _find_ Ryuichi, and when they talked it was obvious that she didn't want to go back. Sheila had even outright stated that her home was where Ryuichi was.

"It would be nice if she stayed with us," he pointed out.

Ryuichi shook his head. "No, it wouldn't be."

Shuichi blinked. That was so… definite. As if Ryuichi himself wanted Sheila to return to America. As if he didn't want to be with her. But it so totally contradicted the way he acted around her! It confused Shuichi. So he did what he always did and asked: "Why?"

Ryuichi scowled, much the same way he had scowled on the night they were driving here. "It would end badly. I… Shu-chan, I told you before about my feelings for you. I can't live with Shiira-chan. The trouble is…" He paused and took a deep breath, maybe hoping that it would help him find the courage to speak. "I can only take in one of you. Not because of space or money, but you being there would hurt her and her being there would hurt you and I don't want to hurt Shiira-chan or Shu-chan."

Shuichi nodded.

He didn't understand, but he didn't have to understand. It just was, and he accepted that. The solution was simple.

He stood up, gathered his determination as if he was stepping onto a stage, and said: "In that case, thank you for inviting me, but I won't come live with you."

Ryuichi's eyes widened in shock.

Shuichi was sad to disappoint him, but also happy to be strong enough to do the right thing. "Please, try to work it out and don't just go searching for another excuse."

"Shu-chan-"

"Ryu-chan."

Ryuichi reached out, but Shuichi took a step backwards, out of his reach.

"Don't worry about me. I'll figure something out. I just need to think about it. Actually, I'm going to do just that," Shuichi rattled off and ran out, of the room and of the house. He ducked behind the rose bushes and hid in the jungle that was the neglected back of the garden.

He didn't want anyone watching him as he fell apart.

o

"Shu-chan? Shu-"

The call was cut off as Sheila spotted him. She fell silent and crossed the clearing, treading softly as though to not disturb the flowers. Or as though she had wings. Shuichi stubbornly refused to lift his head from his hands and check which was the case.

The girl didn't seem to be discouraged by his lack of acknowledgement. She sat down next to him and waited for a while. When Shuichi still didn't move, she grabbed his forearms and forced him to uncurl from the ball he had temporarily become. He didn't want her to see him like this. She was still a stranger, and even thought he was used to strangers watching him cry, this was a little different. He cried all the time, but right now he was purging, letting go of all the fear and hurt and sense of betrayal. The emptiness was swallowing him, and instead of working out what to do with his life he got melancholic and then depressed and now this stranger that had almost been family was intruding.

"Oh, Shu-chan," she said with concern that was neither warranted nor welcome. "Don't cry, please…?"

Shuichi sobbed. "I c-can't stop. D-don't exactly want to cry," he tried to explain. It was practically impossible to halt the torrent once he had allowed it to flow freely.

"Shu-chan…" Sheila hugged him tightly, and he felt that something in the atmosphere around them had shifted. This person was somebody completely different than the girl he had spoken to a few hours ago, not because she had changed in the meantime, but because now she was now allowing him to see her.

Shuichi got an inkling of what Ryuichi meant when he said Sheila wasn't a nice person.

When she looked at him now, she was hard and cool and had an edge to her. It seemed like she knew how to deal with cruelty and how to be cruel, and yet she also knew how to be kind. She followed her heart passionately, in anger, in hatred and in love alike. She let her life be ruled by emotions, and therefore often got hurt, but she knew how to deal with that just as well.

Ryuichi needed somebody like that, someone to see right through his masks and his excuses and make him confront life.

'Maybe I'll just go back to Yuki,' Shuichi considered. 'Gee, I _am_ pathetic. How did I dare tell Ryu-chan that he was a coward? For once in your life, Shindou Shuichi, act like a man!'

"Happy birthday, Sheila-chan," he said. He tried to disentangle his hand so he could shake hers. She didn't give a damn about his hands, and kissed him.

Shuichi was stunned, dumbstruck by the action and by Sheila's absolute unpredictability. The girl was a year younger than him!

"Thank you, Shu-chan," she said a few seconds later, having let go of him.

Shuichi blushed, and then he remembered that she was referring to him wishing her a happy birthday.

Sheila laughed. This time her laughter was a happy, clear sound, full of mirth. "You are so much like him, Shu-chan! Gee, Ryu is such a narcissist!"

Shuichi didn't know exactly what a narcissist was, but he let it be.

Then Sheila spoke again, and all of sudden her voice was low and earnest. "Listen, Shu-chan, the 'situation' between me and Ryu-chan doesn't mean that the two of you should stop being friends, or, 'friends with benefits.' Ryu-chan's got a rock-hard skull, and I've got an even harder one, and it takes either of us a few months in the least to see reason, so…"

Shuichi wasn't getting it. He also didn't like how Sheila just _assumed_ that he wanted her to direct his life. She was without a doubt her father's daughter.

"He told me a lot about you, and I _want_ you to go to Tokyo with him. With us. Because I'm going to kick him into unconsciousness, pack him into a trunk and take him with me if he makes me fly back to LA!"

Shuichi smiled at her words. It sounded so nice, to be able to live with Ryuichi and Sheila, but Ryuichi said it was impossible, and Shuichi accepted that. As long as he and Ryuichi remained friends and he could come to Ryuichi when he needed help, he didn't need to _sleep_ with him. It had been nice, yes, and he might _want_ to, but that wasn't so important.

"I'd like to be friends with Sheila-chan," Shuichi replied.

She smiled. "I'd like that too. Give it time, Shu-chan. Friendship is not born overnight."

He nodded, climbed to his feet and offered her a hand.

Sheila took it and let him pull her up. "And now…" She tilted her hand and grinned. From who-knows-where she recovered a terribly orange party-hat and stuck it onto Shuichi's head. The contrast with his hair was revolting. She laughed, and dragged him back into the house.

There was a party and a long way home tomorrow waiting for them.


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue

o

A motorbike thundered down the road in the late afternoon, eliciting scowls and grumbles from a few elderly passers-by and envious sighs from high-school students loitering in the streets and trying to spot celebrities.

It came to a halt directly in front of the NG studios. A member of the security instantly moved toward it, but returned back to his post when the driver took off his helmet.

A second motorbike drove in the wake of the first one and halted right next to it.

Ryuichi waved to the security guy to indicate that they were together and no one needed to kick anyone out of the premises.

"I can drive you to Hiro-kun," Ryuichi suggested.

Shuichi climbed down from the bike and grimaced at the aches throughout his body. "Thanks. I'm alright from here."

"I don't like this," Ryuichi said seriously.

'Too bad for you' Shuichi thought. He hated being snide, even just inside his head, but he was already horribly stressed out and needed to concentrate, and Ryuichi was just reinforcing his doubts.

"Shu-chan," Sheila begged from the other motorbike, "please, come with us?"

Shuichi shook his head. "I'll really be alright. Besides, if anything happens, I have your phone numbers." He tried to sound upbeat, but it wasn't working. He didn't feel upbeat. He was very frightened that Yuki would not let him inside the building, or that he would, but just to hand him a crate of his things and kick him out forever.

He would probably go to Hiro, or maybe right back to NG until tomorrow and then look for his own place. He had enough money to be able to afford something small.

Ryuichi pulled him close and hugged him. "Do you want Kuma-chan with you?"

Shuichi shook his head. "I've got to do this on my own."

Ryuichi nodded. Even though Shuichi didn't tell him, the man had already figured out where Shuichi was going, even if he didn't know why and what for.

"Me next!" Sheila demanded.

Shuichi hugged her, too. They were very huggy people, the Sakumas.

"Good luck," Shu-chan," Ryuichi said.

Shuichi waved goodbye as the two motorcycles sped down the road.

o

He got into the building by waiting round the corner and then running up to join a couple from a lower floor. They knew him, and offered perfunctory smiles and greetings. They opted to take the stairs rather than share an uncomfortable elevator-ride with the famous, allegedly missing Shindou Shuichi.

Alone in the elevator, Shuichi closed his eyes and fisted his hands. It was hard to breath. He didn't exactly know what he wanted, on the off chance that Yuki would actually bother to listen to him. If he would, then what? Should Shuichi tell him that he had cheated? Would Yuki even care?

Also, if it was just once, did it count?

It definitely did, Shuichi decided, imagining what he would feel like if he found out that Yuki had cheated on him.

He tried to convince himself that the comparison wasn't really fair to him, because he would never ever throw Yuki out, but in the end it didn't help. He had betrayed the man he loved. It didn't matter that he had been betrayed first. It was just an _excuse_.

Shuichi had tears streaming down his face by the time he arrived at the right floor. He stepped out of the elevator and dragged his feet toward the right door. There he hesitated. He raised his hand.

He lowered his hand. Gritted his teeth.

He raised his hand and knocked, just once.

Yuki probably wasn't home anyway. And if he was, then he would be shut in his office, working hard to meet some deadline or other. He would barely hear the buzzer-

The door opened, and Yuki was standing there. He didn't really look different – same casually elegant slacks and shirt, worn even in his home, same hair, same cigarette smell. It was like Shuichi had never left.

"I was not sure you would come back," Yuki said.

"I wasn't either," Shuichi replied, meeting Yuki's eyes. "I almost didn't." If not for Sheila, he most likely would have gone with Ryuichi. They would have made great 'friends with benefits,' very scandalous. The media would have been all over them. So much publicity! Still, Shuichi would be periodically crying himself to sleep over Yuki. He didn't believe he would ever get over Yuki, no matter whom or what he might find in the future.

"Let's make a deal," Yuki offered, beckoning Shuichi inside. They stood in the hall, still facing one another over the distance of an arm's reach, and Yuki closed the door. "I will not ask what happened. You will not ask either."

Shuichi shrugged. "It'll be on the news, anyway."

"No, it will not," Yuki said. "Not the important part."

"Okay," Shuichi agreed. "You won't tell, I won't tell." He could see that Yuki had done something he didn't want Shuichi knowing, which basically amounted to cheating. It did feel like a knife stabbing his chest, just as Shuichi had expected it would. A couple of tears refreshed the tracks down his cheeks. Still, a non-disclosure agreement wasn't nearly as bad as what Yuki could have done. "But why? I figured you'd have my things packed and waiting in the hallway."

Yuki was silent for what seemed like a long time. It was really hard for Shuichi to stand there, not move and not say anything. He felt like he was turning to stone.

"You are the one thing in my life that makes no sense," Yuki said in the end, carding his hand through his hair in a familiar gesture of exasperation. He scoffed. "And the only thing that makes any sense."

Shuichi's heart exploded with fireworks. He struggled really hard to not grin and throw himself around Yuki's neck. "I want my own key and my own pass-code," he demanded.

To his utter shock, Yuki simply nodded. "Done."

With heart still beating wildly and hope rapidly growing, Shuichi said: "I _want to_ live with you, but if it's not working, I'll get my own place."

Yuki extended his hand toward a perpetually closed door. "The guest room is yours. Next time I need a moment of peace, I'll lock you in there."

It was said in a sad attempt at humour, and Shuichi wasn't in the mood. "No locking in. No throwing out. No telling me things just to hurt me." He stood his ground, inwardly terrified at being denied, mostly because he knew he would crumble and this would all have been for naught. "It might kill me if I lose you, but one day it'll hurt enough for me to want to die."

It already had hurt that much before. Shuichi had held on anyway. He wasn't exactly certain what Yuki would have to do to make him not want to hold on anymore, but saying it out loud would just invite more pain.

Shuichi never wanted to hurt Yuki, but if he became almost kind like this when he was scared, then a little uncertainty would help. Shuichi knew he was being taken for granted, and he didn't really mind that. He could ask for attention if he needed it. He could deal with being refused that attention.

He just needed _some_ security.

"I am," Yuki professed, "probably the worst person for you to fall in love with."

Shuichi leaned against Yuki, and cried again, in relief, at being welcome into his arms. The embrace felt unusually sincere, as if Yuki needed to reassure himself of Shuichi's presence, and it made something beautiful bloom in Shuichi's chest. "The worst," Shuichi muttered into Yuki's shoulder, "and the best. The only."

Yuki kissed the top of his head and _didn't_ pull Shuichi toward the sofa to make him earn the stay.


End file.
